Help Wanted
by princesshyuuga01
Summary: Never in her life had Tenten felt such strong attraction at a first meeting. But she needed to keep her hormones under control and not confuse what it was that she had been hired for. She was to be taking care of Uchiha Itachi's children...? Not her own sinfully inappropriate desires. Desires? Oh God had her interest transcended into that already? [Reader's Discretion is Advised]
1. An Unusual Proposal

**Help Wanted**

**Chapter One – An Unusual Proposal**

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**Engage people with what they expect; it is what they are able to discern and confirm their projections. It settles them into predictable patterns of response, occupying their minds while you wait for the extraordinary moment—that which they cannot anticipate**

**\- Sun Tzu**

Uchiha Itachi impatiently lifted the final sheet of paper, scanned it in a second and even more impatiently tossed it aside. "I'm looking for someone with a little more experience," he dismissed tersely, his wide sensual mouth tightening with annoyance, lancing a look of displeasure.

The brunette girl swallowed, glancing down at the rejected folder before her.

The first time she looked into the man's eyes, Tenten knew she was in trouble. They were the deepest and darkest shade of charcoal that she had ever seen, framed by long, silky lashes, set beneath a pair of equally silky black brows. And they appeared to be looking into her soul, trying to find out what sort of a person she was before she had even spoken.

"If I hadn't the requisite credentials, someone else would be sitting across from you, Mr. Uchiha," she reasoned professionally, seemingly unperturbed by his repudiation.

"Your stated age leaves your qualifications in question, Miss Momochi," he told her pointedly, exercising the same expert cool that she was trying to maintain. "You are but a child."

His voice had sharpened, still a low rumble in his throat but with an added edge, and his beautifully sculpted brows drew together over his eyes.

"Age is but a number, sir," she countered lightly.

He arched a fascinated brow at her and ran a calculating gaze over her face. "A number that is of grave significance to me," he assured her sternly.

Tenten shifted uncomfortably in her seat, feeling the timbre of his voice rattling the very air in her lungs. Oh, hell his voice was sexy, coming from deep, deep down his throat. Everything about the man set off alarm bells, and stirred her deepest emotions.

It was uncanny.

She had kept these feelings rigidly in check all the way through high school, only for him to disassemble the locks and bolts with a mere glance from those lazy onyx eyes of his.

"It says here that you're twenty-one," he said with a hint of incredulity, more to himself rather than to her.

Tenten nodded, feeling certain that, in that moment, if she dared to speak, her voice would give her away. Never in her life had she felt such strong attraction at a first meeting. But she needed to get a grip on herself. She would be taking care of this man's children not her own sinfully inappropriate desires.

Desires?

Oh god, had her interest transcended into that already?

She wondered for a brief moment whether it would be advisable to work for a man who could do this much damage before she even got the chance to know him.

Perhaps she ought to turn and run.

"You're not what I expected," he admitted. "But you come highly recommended," he raised a brow as he said it. "Though at your age, I doubt you will be up to the job," he added crisply.

Tenten sucked in a deep breath, taking umbrage. "Mr. Uchiha," she declared, staring at him full in the face. "I can assure you that I am more than up to the job." She thrust an envelope into his face. "Here are my references, may they quell your doubts."

He didn't so much as look at it, "I decide if you're up to the job, not the other way around," he pointed out sternly.

She clasped her hands in her lap, realizing that she was reacting like the child he clearly saw her as. Tenten eased further back into the chair and crossed her legs, "Of course sir," she agreed grudgingly, but managed to keep the bite out of her voice.

She desperately needed to keep her cool if she wanted to land this job. It was the only one that she was certain she could manage. Plus it paid well, entitled her to a roof over her head and three hot meals per day.

It was perfect for her, especially given a certain situation that she had found herself in.

There was a moment of oppressive silence and Tenten busied her gaze with taking in the decor of his office though she much preferred ogling its handsome owner.

It was a huge suite converted into a home office, complete with a monstrous mahogany desk, a leather director's chair and a matching black leather lounge suite design to make whoever set foot in the giant room at home.

She had ignored the comfy-looking sofa and settled for the solitary chair opposite his desk, her back ramrod straight. She hadn't come here to get cosy and comfortable, she came to do business.

But that thought flew out the window the moment he had stepped into the room in his well tailor black suit that did little to hide the powerful body beneath it. She knew he must have caught her gawking at his broad shoulders and the perfectly chiseled planes of his face. Because his first comment upon entering the room had been, "Do you look at everyone like they are from another planet?"

She did her best to suppress the blush that seemed to have started from the tail of her spine, stretching up to cheeks, but it was to no avail, her skin coloured with embarrassment.

A light wind entered the room through the parted binds by the window and rustled a few strands of his long, dark, satiny tresses. A light scowl darkened his features as he sought to correct the issue with a flick of his hand.

It was then that she noticed the absence of a wedding band and there was no tan line to indicate that his finger had actually accomodated one before.

It baffled her.

And man of his callibre and good looks should not be unmarried. Heck, he should not exist. He was impossibly-impeccably sculpted and proportioned, like the very gods themselves had taken extra care in putting him together. He must be a thorn in other men's sight and every woman's dream.

But Tenten deduced, she had never dreamt that good before.

"Do you smoke?" Itachi suddenly asked, his hooded gaze trapping her brown ones in a stare down that sent something jolting throughout her being.

The intensity of it caused her voice to fail her, so she simply had to resort to shaking her head.

"Are you involved with anyone?"

She knew these were routine questions but she hardly saw what that one had to do with anything.

It was as if he read her mind, because he expanded, "In the event that you may be needing time off."

"Isn't time off, sort of a right?" questioned Tenten, her earthen eyes sparking dramatically, her tone was sharper than she had intended. Possibly because of the way her senses were all over the place.

Dark eyes narrowed and a muscle jerked dangerously in his jaw. "You haven't answered the question."

Tenten looked at him boldly, her chin high. "If you must know, there is no one. But I'm sure you knew that, you were very thorough with your specifics."

He gave a very slight lift of his shoulders, "Not thorough enough apparently."

She drew a swift breath, "I don't see why my age should be such a bother to you."

"Tenten," he said seriously, "May I call you Tenten?"

She nodded, her stomach doing somersaults at the way her name rolled of his tongue. He made it sound different and incredibly sexy. "That's fine," she answered stiffly, not looking at him.

Her hormones were behaving badly. And it annoyed her because this wasn't like her.

His scowl darkened. "You boast good qualifications and excellent references," he reiterated tightly. Vital energy, constrained for too long, had him on his feet, pacing the confines of his home office. "But you are far too young," he reminded with a bite.

"Mr. Uchiha," she said firmly, a hairsbreadth away from losing her cool. She really needed this job and was not going let something as irrelevant as age stop her from getting it.

"Itachi," he corrected. "Shall we take a walk?"

Tenten held no objections as she hurried at his heels through miles of corridors. It was a struggle just to keep up, his long legs, in danger of taking him away from her.

She devoured him with her eyes, noting the way his suit stretched across his broad muscular back, the way his pants were similarly taut over his behind and hip, emphasising once again, his athletic physique.

She inhaled deeply, needing to focus on something else. She settled on the French windows as they passed an airy corridor that opened out on to a patio area filled with florets of every colour and species imaginable.

They passed by many rooms, but the doors were kept shut so she couldn't identify which rooms belonged to his children. But the entire house looked to be furnished by an interior designer with no thoughts for comfort, only aesthetic beauty.

"I was the only one at the agency that met most of your peculiar prerequisite," she told him, needing to make conversation because the silence was too deafening. "I don't see why age should be a limiting factor. I'm as good as it gets."

He stopped so abruptly that Tenten cannoned into him, taken aback when his strong arms steadied her and those mesmerizing dark eyes locked into hers. She actually stopped breathing for a few seconds and gazes into their magical depths. It took a moment to compose herself when she realized what she had been doing.

Her olfactory cells relished the invasion of the most irresistable cologne she had ever come across. It was strong like Itachi himself, but not overpowering. And she knew it would linger long after he was gone, the same went for the imprint his hand on her.

"Are you worried that I may not be able to manage your children?" she inclined her head, stepping back.

"There's always the possibility," he told her fiercely.

Silence swept between them once more and it stirred something unpleasant in Tenten's gut.

"Are they difficult, Mr. Uchiha?" she enquired. "I'll have you know that I am more than capable of handling—"

He lifted his shoulders and let them drop again, slowly. "I have no children, Miss Momochi," he said, cutting her off.

She couldn't hide her shock; it rippled through her in violent little waves. "You have no children?" she choked. "Then why do you need a nanny? Why would you need me?"

Tenten held her breath as she waited for his answer. The very air around her changed. It had thickened until breathing was virtually impossible. The silence between them lengthened, and then he pinned her with such an intense expression in his onyx eyes that she truly couldn't breathe, couldn't even move.

"To bear them," he answered simply.

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**A/N: I know I shouldn't be posting new stories when I have so many ongoing ones, but fuck it these ideas keep coming! This story is dedicated to a dear friend of mine who is no longer on fanfiction but has gotten me into the ItaTen fever! It's such a pity, collaborating on this with her would have been an honour! I miss her :'(**

**Review if you'd like this to continue. Feel free to swing by my page to check out my other works :) I'm Tenten obsessed so she's featured in 80% of my stories. Reviews?**


	2. The Unconventional Compromise

**Help Wanted**

**Chapter Two – The Unconventional Compromise**

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**Desperation will drive you to do things you know will never make you whole again and even to lose the very thing you're desperate for.**

— **Laura Miller**

Dark lashes flipped up in bewilderment over startled brown eyes and Tenten froze in her tracks. Her mouth gaped open in shock.

She released her breath in a sudden startled hiss and collided with Itachi's uncertain yet somehow severe gaze. Paralyzed to the spot by that stunning proposition, she merely gazed back at him with huge disbelieving eyes, all the colour bleeding from her complexion. She was certain she hadn't heard him correctly. He could not seriously think—could not imagine—

Nothing in the job description had indicated anything of such nature.

The ensuing silence was impregnated with the hair prickling sense that a bomb had just gone off. Itachi reveled in its intensity. He looked largely unrattled, seemingly in his element, "Like I said, you wouldn't be up to the job," he quipped, his mouth twisting disdainfully.

Tenten understood why her mind was reeling, but what was to be held accountable for her galloping heart—faster than any racehorse? Something unpleasant ripped through her stomach, his taunting words cutting her to ribbons. In that moment her mind and body felt oddly out of sync with each other, the smug half a smirk he wore disrupting their connection.

"Mr. Uchiha I am neither a whore nor a brood mare," she managed to get out. It took every ounce of her self-command to succumb the urge not to slap him. Did this tall, dark and disgustingly handsome devil think he was so special that he could ask her to reduce herself to nothing but a rented baby maker and expect an open invitation? "In case you've forgotten, please revisit my résumé," she instructed tartly.

His face was as expressive as a boulder, "Had I been looking for a whore or a brood mare, as you put it..." This time his face loosened a bit, only to hint his disgust, one dark brow raised in deliberate arrogance. "...You wouldn't have gotten this interview," he said it almost as tightly as the muscles in his face.

Tenten didn't know why she took such a heavy knock from what he said. His comment should have been taken as a compliment, heck, whether he thought she had appeal or not shouldn't matter to her. So why had she felt so insulted—so stung?

Moreover, why was she concerning herself with such trivial matters when he had practically assumed her womb was up for hire? And like he had been making a supposition about the weather too?

She stifled a plaintive cry, burying her face into her palms mentally, but she composed herself. "Mr. Uchiha—" she started, looking away as she spoke for fear that he would see too much in her face.

"Itachi," he reminded her broodingly.

Her breath caught in her throat as she helplessly raised her gaze yet again to the darkest, blackest, most piercingly intense eyes she had ever beheld. "—there is a brothel not too far out of town, I'm sure you'll find someone there willing to compromise," she finished off, with a painful swallow.

She couldn't understand why a man as divine as himself would stoop to the level of contracting someone to have his child. Heck, he should have an array of supermodels ready for him at the click of his fingers.

"How amusing," he drawled but his voice hinted otherwise.

Tenten straightened out the imaginary crease in her skirt, scoffing at the obvious attempt she had made to dress up nicely and put up a good front. She had spent every last cent she had on the black linen suit she wore and now she was starting to regret it. She did however feel good it in. It looked rather smart, the straight skirt and button-through no-sleeve, no collar lined jacket showed up her curvaceous frame without emphasizing too much on her bust.

She had opted to not wear any stockings, partly because the temperature had been unbearably hot lately, but mostly because she thought her long tanned legs looked just as good naked. Especially since she had them waxed and had rubbed oil into them till the golden skin was glowing and soft. Her hair had been left down, only the sides caught up with brown combs—that were hard to detect amongst her chestnut mane—to show the pearls in her ears, the rest trailing down her back in a mass of unfettered waves.

A pink gloss shimmered on her full mouth but her eye make-up had been a bit more dramatic with dark, smoky eye shadow and lashings of black mascara to give her big brown eyes what she had hoped was a mysterious look. But not too mysterious, she was vying for the position of a nanny, not a mistress.

Or so she thought.

She gave a nervous bark of laughter dissolving what could only be described as solid silence. "It's a rather unusual route for a man to take when seeking someone to share his bed."

Itachi branded her with a pitying look down the long, arrogant length of his nose. "I have no interest in relationships, casual or otherwise." if it were possible, the grim line of his mouth flattened even more.

Tenten felt of quiver of trepidation down the length of her spine at the warning she sensed hiding behind the mildness of his tone. Something ominous was lurking on the horizon of the sudden dangerous stillness, and the dark scowl upon his brow. His whole demeanour commanded her mouth shut.

"I only need an heir," he declared as if it was the most normal demand to make of anyone. "And unless you are prepared to give me that, then I have no use for your services."

"No use for my services? My services!" she repeated scathingly, giving a disgusted little snort. "You—you are absolutely unbelievable!" Her expression was indignantly outraged.

She had spent her very last dime on her outfit and transportation, only to arrive and discover that the vacancy she had applied for apparently required the filling her vacant uterus.

This had be one of those beginner's tests where the new recruit was provoked in order to assess how well he or she handled impossible situations. Perhaps Itachi's children were pranksters and he wanted to evaluate whether or not she had a high enough tolerance to deal. That had to be it.

"You can't possibility be serious?" she drew in a steadying, rationalizing breath.

"I am," he acknowledged unrepentantly.

The brunette did not retort. She was too staggered by the raw honesty in those two little words. Her chest clenched so tight for a second that she felt in serious danger of fainting. She willed it down.

She was not that naïve to be unknowledgeable of how heirs were made. And she was also well aware that she ought not to let the direness of her situation force her to rush blindly into any agreement solely because she sought the protection the arrangement could undoubtedly offer her.

She may have left everything else behind.

But she still had her pride.

She had her dignity.

And she would take them with her wherever she ran—for as long as she had to run. Besides, there were certain things a girl wasn't supposed to do for money, no matter how desperately she needed it.

Tenten cast another glance at Itachi. His straight nose and full lips gave him a profile that spoke of…she dared think it—sensual knowledge and promise. He gave no indication of knowing he was under scrutiny. Then his head turned and those eyes snagged hers.

Dead On.

The heat flare upwards from the pit of her belly and Tenten turned away. She could almost imagine the mocking, knowing tug of somewhat of a grin on his lips.

"If you will please…" her voice trembled. "…show me out."

He was suddenly standing very close. Too close. Close enough for her to be aware of everything about him—from the dark hair that fell so attractively across his brow, to the width of his shoulders, the elegance of his clothed waist and thigh, to the highly polished shoe upon his feet.

He caught her wrist and Tenten started visibly. His fingers seemed to burn her flesh where they touched, and the quiver she felt down her spine was one of complete physical awareness, rather than the revulsion she wished to feel.

She chided herself. What was it about this man that she should react this way? What spell had he cast upon her that made his inappropriate proposal so tempting, other than the fact that she needed a cover?

"Like you had pointed out, Tenten…" he said her name like an endearment. "…You were the only candidate to have matched most of my provisos for this job."

He echoed her earlier words. But coming from him after hearing what he truly wanted her for, they had a completely different meaning, with an undertone that made Tenten's insides feel as if they were melting under the heat. She moistened dry lips, shaking her head as she strove to hold a grip back unto reality.

"Job? Is that what you consider it?" she was incredulous, snatching her hand away.

Her breathing became low and shallow, and she couldn't break her gaze away from the darkness of his, it felt as if he were slowly, inexorably, drawing her towards him by the sheer force of his will.

"Perhaps we should step back into my office," he urged her on, his hand finding the small of Tenten's back to steer her back down the corridors.

She really wished he hadn't done that because the swell of her breasts suddenly surged making the bodice of her top feel eerily fitting. "I thought I wasn't up to the job?" she asked, feeling like someone else had said the words.

Once inside the safety of his office, he brusquely indicated to the seat she had previously occupied and sat down at his desk. "I'm afraid that you have no other choice than to be up to the job," he said blankly, smoothly pulling out a sheaf of papers. He handed one set to Tenten and kept one himself.

She gazed down at them, and then looked back at him. Mesmerized. By the soft threat of his voice. By those dark, compelling eyes. Eyes that, in the sunlight that filtered through the open window, seemed to reflect gold flecks in their depths. Eyes that saw through the sham that she was.

"What is this?" she enquired throatily.

His lips slightly curved upwards, in a devastatingly breathtaking smirk that left her lungs airless. "I always take a thorough background check of whomever I decide to let into my house," he stated, turning a couple pages.

Tenten sweat dropped.

"I found it rather odd that when your file came to me, the agency couldn't verify that you worked for them."

She drew in a controlling breath, her hands clenching around the papers. "These sorts of mix up happen all the—"

He flicked a lean hand, cutting her off with the violence of his gesture. He was looking at her, his face carved from granite, eyes so harsh and forbidding that Tenten couldn't see any lightness or tenderness in their depths. "You would have fooled me, except your age gave you away," he admitted. "No one this young boast that much job experience."

"Do not underestimate me Mr. Uchiha. I've been doing this since I was twelve," she said tightly, folding her arms.

"Doing what exactly?"

Tenten shook with emotion, and restrained her urge to fly across the room and smack that supercilious look off his face. He knew nothing about her circumstances. "I…uh…babysitting," she hated the naked hesitancy in her voice.

"I'm not looking for a babysitter."

She looked at Itachi warily. A muscle pulsed in his jaw. His raw masculine virility reached out to grab her and she had to fight it. "No, you're looking for a baby popper," she countered almost childishly.

"Are you aware that posing as an agent for any organization is a felony?" His words flayed her, but she held herself together, even when he flicked a searing glance up and down her body. "I am willing to turn a blind eye to the matter, only if you—"

She felt the colour draining from her face as she struggled to take in what he was suggesting. "My body isn't up for hire," she breathed in horror.

Itachi went ominously still and said silkily, "Then I suppose, I'll just have to turn you in."

Tenten's mouth opened and closed ineffectually as the full weight of this man's power sank in. The lengths he was willing to go to…all because she met a couple of his twisted requirements; blood type, height, weight, dark eyes etc. She wondered why he fancied her plain looks, but put it down to him not wanting a mate with features striking enough to cancel out the Uchiha genes in his child.

He said he wasn't looking for a relationship which was probably why he hadn't a wife. But it was a little puzzling that he would resort to such desperate measures. Any woman would be content with sharing his bed and bearing his child, why her? Why seek out a nanny—one he figured was an obvious fraud at that?

A look of intense cynicism crossed Itachi's face. He'd expected that response. "I didn't think so." His voice became brisk. "Now if you'll just sign page twenty-three," he said handing her a pen.

The girl took it from him semi-consciously, thanking the heavens that she was sitting because her legs were buckling. Her hands instinctively went to her flattened middle. She couldn't afford to go to prison but she couldn't do this either, no matter how badly she needed the money.

Getting arrested was out of the question, it would only present _**him**_ with the opportunity to bail her out—to find her again…

A woman on the run could not afford to commit to something as binding as a child. It would only serve to slow her down, keep her rooted in one place. Still, she needed a place to stay, needed a cover and judging by how scandalous this little arrangement was, Itachi would probably keep her hidden away—safe.

Tenten tilted up her chin slightly and forced out through numb lips, with as much dignity as she could muster, "When do I start?"

Itachi watched as the colour drained from her cheeks. Saw out of the corner of his yes the way her hands tightened on the pen. Inwardly he had to hand it to her. She used her expressive features well, no doubt aware of how she could deceive people with them. But the scripts had been flipped and luckily for her she suited her casted role perfectly, or it would have been a trip down to the police station.

"Right away," he said casually.

Her lips fell apart as she struggled to hold back a bubble of near hysteria. "Right away?" Tenten resounded with a gasp.

He nodded once; the fierce look in his eyes was one of exasperation.

She mentally slapped her hand against her forehead.

Fuck me.

No pun intended.

_**When they face desperation…human beings become animals.**_

— _**Dan Brown**_

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**A/N: I was a little skeptic about starting this story because upcoming chapters maybe very awkward, considering…things =^.^= But I could not believe the response to this story! I am so glad that you guys are enjoying it. I will be further clearing up any issue that may have raised eyebrows so not to worry. I just had to get these two prologue-like chapters out first. **

**Keep the Reviews coming and I'll keep updating.**


	3. The Contracts

**Help Wanted**

**Chapter Three – The Contracts**

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"**By fighting you never get enough, but by yielding you get more than you expected"**

— **Dale Carnegie**

At his declaration Itachi half expected to meet Tenten's gaze and see a look of sickening outrage but it hadn't surfaced, instead her brown eyes opened wide with shock, unease and a hint of surrender, the colour draining clear from her face.

He watched her gaze narrow in on him. She turned her head slightly and leaned forward, almost as though she'd experienced a hearing loss. "Right away?" The enquiry exploded from her parched lips.

"Is there a problem?" he asked disinterestingly, noting the way her slender fingers trembled while she blindly turned the pages before her. The poor girl must still be shivering at the knowledge that he had twigged at her deception so quickly.

But he knew Tenten was an impostor the very moment she came to him with her ostentatious résumé and acclaimed references, especially considering the fact that his specifications had been purely genetically related. There had been no need to provide information about job experience and qualifications for he hadn't ordered an actual nanny.

It was then that he figured, not only was she a fraud, but one who obviously had no clue what she was forging. Because the company with which she falsely associated her craft didn't actually offer childcare services; it was in the illicit business of selling and contracting surrogate mothers.

She stared at him, an anguished hope in her eyes that spoke of immense inner turbulence, and he instantly knew she wasn't immune to the deal he had put on the table. Money won. It always won if you tapped into the weakness that would give way to it.

Tenten bit down on her bottom lip, battling to get her frantic heart-rate under control.

"Not at all," she stammered at the realization that her words vocalized the exact thoughts of the buzzing body beneath her expensive get-up. It shouted _No objections!_But she was pretty sure those were her hormones talking. She needed to step back and think this through very carefully, without the presence of his daunting body tempting her.

He leaned across the desk towards her, his rich charcoal eyes as unimpressed as they were challenging. She swallowed. She had never thought eyes could be threatening, not until now; his scorching gaze seemed to suck the very air from the room.

From what she heard, Uchiha Itachi was a tyrant, the A-grade boss from hell but what made her inner turmoil more savage was how stunningly handsome.

She really could not get over it.

His face didn't have a single unpleasing feature. It capped a tall, perfectly proportioned physique which carried the perfectly tailored suit he wore with distinction…it was so wickedly unfair! The man had absolutely everything! She hardly resented the fact that he had a sexual impact on her. It would be rather strange if he didn't.

Testosterone radiated out from him like a magnetic field. He wore it as easily as his designer suit. He wore it as easily as the mantle of power that was almost tangible around him.

The fight in her eyes wavered into a sea of vulnerable uncertainty—the need for no break in her money-chain warring with a mountain of doubts about what she might be getting into by putting herself in his power.

She knew that accepting his offer could be dangerous to her well-being. But it didn't have to be. She was a strong woman and this was essentially a negotiation, after all.

"Then there's no need to complain, is there?" he asked, moving closer, a dangerous glint in his eye, and his voice a silken noose she felt tightening by the second. "Now if you'll just sign the contract..." he instructed.

Heat flooded back into her cheeks in sudden outrage as she fingered with a sheet of paper, reading the words and finally recognizing them for what they were. "This specifically speaks of a son. There's no way to guarantee that I'll have a boy."

It felt weirdly intimate just talking about having his baby.

"There isn't," he admitted flatly, lifting a hand, feather light fingertips grazing the hot skin of her wrist before the entire thing settled over her small hand.

The gesture shocked her into stillness, but it was the stillness of a tightly coiled spring, nerves twanging at the suppression of the movement of her hand from beneath his. Her heart was thundering. She couldn't tear her gaze away from his or her face away from his mesmerising touch. She was attracted to him. She was really, really dangerously attracted to him. And everything female within her quivered in delight at the prospect of being possessed by him.

From over the top of the papers, Tenten's chocolate eyes flicked over Itachi's face, they narrowed in scrutiny which took in every visible clue as to his mood. It remained unreadable.

"But either way, you will give me son," he told her with cutting assurance.

Her lips parted in apparent disbelief, no air made it to or from her lungs. At that moment, everything went static. There was no cellular activity, not a vein nor artery busy with blood flow. She was physically inert, wishing she could evade the riveting intensity of his eyes, but determined not to appear even more disturbed by him than she had already revealed.

"I will?" she managed to mutter, the tip of her pen moving at its own accord on the paper.

For a long, long, moment he said nothing. Her toes curled with tension. Her mind whirled with dangerous possibilities. What if he leaned forward and kissed her? What would she feel? The terrible part was that she didn't think she could resist if he did make the move and that could mean all sorts of trouble for her in the later run.

"You will," he finally said and with a quickly sucked-in breath added, "No matter how many tries it takes."

His words resonated in her head and Tenten was pretty sure most of the blood in her head had flowed right out, leaving her brain empty and her ears ringing.

She felt dizzy and faint and was still not sure she'd understood him. Her throat went dry. Unless she was delusional, it sounded like he intended for her to conceive the old-fashioned way. And the more she thought about it, the more she was all for it. Especially with him sitting so close, holding her hand and unconsciously rubbing his thumb along the pulse point at her wrist.

Tiny zings of excitement charged through her body with every move of his thumb, driving her crazy in all the best ways.

But then common sense reigned in and her eyes widened. She jagged up her chin, incensed. "You're not looking for a one off deal are you? You're looking for a wife." Tenten spluttered in a startled hiss.

Hot colour whooshed into her face, but there was no shock in her eyes. She had already grasped the deal he was holding out. It might be smart to back away from having a baby with him. After all, if she did agree, it would mean entering into a deeply personal relationship with a complete stranger that she wasn't sure she would ever recover from.

The plain truth was that she would be easily dispensable from his life. And the bitter truth was…he probably wouldn't be from hers—after this.

"Not a wife. Someone to bear my children," he corrected, as if it were some kind of defense against her accusation, and he slashed one hand through the air towards her. "There's a difference."

He rattled the words out like machine-gun fire and she drew her hand from beneath his, feeling like she had overstepped a mark.

For a moment her face went totally blank, as though a switch had been thrown and defensive shutters had instantly clicked into place. He watched her labouring to construct a somewhat apologetic expression—a sheer act of will, against her natural grain.

Her eyes took on a pleading look, begging for something he couldn't grant her. "This contract needs to be tweaked or I'm not signing it," she gruffly handed him the sheaf of paper.

His mouth tilted into an ironic smirk that kicked her heart into thumping like a drum. "But you already have," he took it from her, indicating with his index finger where she had blindly scribbled her signature.

"What?" she croaked in astonishment.

He smirked again, this time his perfectly sculptured mouth broke open to show a row of perfect white teeth. "You're hired," Itachi declared, his rich male voice making her ears tingle.

"But—?"

"With that out of the way," he said abruptly, swiveling in his chair to place the contract in a folder and lock it away in his drawer. "I'll show you where you'll be staying," he got to his feet again and she followed him like a lost puppy.

Tenten nodded dumbly, her mind still reeling. Her brain needed a blast of oxygen. Everything was happening so fast and she couldn't remember having initiated anything. The tension inside her was like a compressed spring, needing release. It took considerable willpower to walk at a normal pace, maintaining an air of dignity. His sexual magnetism made her insides quiver as she passed him.

Her legs, however, did perform their function of holding her up and she was out of his office in just a few nerve jangling moments.

"I don't understand any of this," she choked out, finally turning to face him. "I thought I was too young. And you know I'm not really a nanny, so why are you—?"

He held up a silencing hand, his shoulders taking on a squared edge, "Because I had already paid good money for you."

She gaped, her heart breaking into a suspended state of shock but galloping on the spot. "Paid good money for me?" she echoed in confusion.

"The agency isn't in the business of contracting nannies Tenten," he told her pointedly. "It sells young surrogates and even though you couldn't be verified, you were sold to me." He paused to let that sink in before adding, "But I knew you were a fraud the instant you stepped into my office flashing your credentials. I merely played along," he admitted unashamedly. "The agency never contracts women without at first prepping them of what they're truly being hired for and you had absolutely no clue what that was."

She glared at him, the wheels of her mind going round and round in a fierce search for something. Then she found it, "It sounds no different from prostitution. Is that even legal?"

He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "I can assure you that it isn't."

Anger spurted off her tongue, big brown eyes huge with something bordering on disgust and hope. "Then I would have had a case even if you had taken me in to the feds?"

"Yes you would have," he answered, flat and toneless. "But not anymore," He deliberately delivered those words in a provocative drawl, reveling in the betraying heat that coloured her cheeks again. "You've already signed my contract and unless you've got no problem being sued for everything you're worth, then feel free to dishonor it."

Tenten's head jerked back on the slender stem of her neck as she looked up at Itachi. "You—you can't mean that!" she protested.

But even as she protested, a fierce and elemental a desire was flaring up inside her. It shook her body with its force. She couldn't want him—and most especially she could not want him under circumstances that should have been making her recoil with revulsion.

"I do mean it," he assured her.

She shook her head, wishing she had refused him, sickened by his view of her—a woman who could be bought. Not in ordinary circumstances, she thought fiercely. If she hadn't been so strapped for cash, desperate enough to fake her profession—so keen to run away then she wouldn't have found herself in this position. But who knew hijacking someone's job application could have landed her in such a situation?

There were worse things than being blackmailed into having someone's kids, however. Much worse.

She swallowed down the surge of bile which had erupted from her churning stomach and took a deep breath. "Since you bought me," she made air quotes as she said it. "Does that mean I won't be getting a salary?"

"Like all other employees you're entitled to a salary," he strode off again nudging his head as an indication that she was to follow him. "Since you aren't in fact employed by the agency and won't be getting a cut of what I initially paid for you, then I suppose you'll have to be paid a heftier sum," he said as if it were any consolation.

"I'm an employee?" she laughed dryly.

He nodded his dark head. Inevitably the power of his sexuality tugged at her, even when he was pushing a deal that made her feel like a second-class woman, only fit for his bed because her features suited some twisted requirements of the women he envisioned to produce his children, tossing money at her to sweeten that humiliating truth.

Itachi stopped outside a door in the corridor, "This is where you'll be staying. I expect to see you at dinner by seven."

Nodding again, Tenten opened the door. By the time she had closed it she knew that Itachi had gone—not because she had seen him go, but because somehow she had sensed it. The air around her and her own body's reaction told her that he was no longer there.

Finding Itachi Uchiha sexually attractive was understandable, and she tried to tell herself that to quell her growing panic about how she was going to cope living so closely—so intimately with him. Obviously such a stupendously male man was bound to have that effect on most women. But she was not most women, and she was desperately afraid of her vulnerability.

It was the primary reason she had mindlessly signed that demeaning contract.

He had too much of an impact on her senses—so much that even her skin could register his presence or the lack of it and it was frighteningly dangerous territory. Itachi was a callous and unfeeling brute with no measure of humanity or understanding.

She had to give him credit however, for catching on to her so quickly and coming up with a plan to ensure that his money hadn't gone down the drain. But her own deception had inflicted a wound on her that she would have to lick for the rest of her life. Could she swallow the pain of being nothing but a hired baby making machine and then leave her children behind as the contract dedicate she would have to?

Just keep thinking of the advantages he had laid out, she savagely told herself. They were very solid advantages. Aside from the money and protection the deal offered, there would be worry-free time for her to plot her next big move. All she had to do was pop two little suckers out and not get too tangled up emotionally with Itachi.

Besides, how bad could it be to have him as her lover?

The answer to that came a couple days later, after they were advised by an appointed doctor that the artificial inseminating procedure the Uchiha had requested—because he would not share his bed with a complete stranger—was not going on work due to the presence of Tenten's hymen and irregular cycle.

The news had left the brunette with a squirmy, excited but terrifying feeling which never left the pit of her tummy. But Itachi had been far from polite about the whole issue. The next morning saw him slamming down another sheaf of paper before her at breakfast.

"What is this?" her eyes flicked a size wider.

He growled low in his throat, settling himself in his chair. The ire tightness that rigidified his features ever since the discovery was still in place. "I don't want you to get confused with what we're doing here," he said gingerly, a line of anger slanting his brows.

She blinked at him, "Of course not."

"Do not expect a candle lit dinner and soft music because you're a virgin," he rasped, making the word sound foul. The grim, fighting expression on his face slowly relaxed and the blaze of battle in his eyes dimmed as he gazed at her. "Just let me know when you're ovulating," he instructed tersely.

Tenten sighed. He was blunt and impossible. But she wouldn't have him any other way. She never knew when those black eyes would darken with anger or glint with triumph or shimmer with the all-enveloping charm he could summon at will—usually, in her case, when he'd said or done something to make her upset. He could turn any woman he momentarily fancied into a sex slave, resistance impossible, poor things.

Thankfully she would never have to face the acid test of having to resist him.

Or so Tenten thought…

The entire length of her body went rigid as deep shock claimed her when the import of the printed words penetrated her hitherto absent brain with the precision of a sharpened dagger.

It was yet another contract.

But this time it was regarding sex.

And the first few lines of the appendix did answer her earlier question about how bad of a lover Itachi Uchiha would be.

1\. Kissing is personal and hence off limits.

2\. There will be no caressing as I do not like to be touched.

3\. There will be minimal foreplay.

4\. You are to remain quiet; no whimpering, asking questions or making small talk during or after the act.

5\. There is to be absolutely no fidgeting.

6\. Sex is to be scheduled; spontaneity is unaccepted.

7\. There will be no alcohol consumption before sex.

8\. Any and all contraceptive methods are forbidden.

9\. There is to be no sexual relations with any outside party.

10\. Total obedience and diligence in carrying out sexual instructions.

Flushed and flustered, her heart bumping, Tenten continued down the list of rules and regulations of what was presumably the cruel art of baby making. Uchiha Itachi may as well be an acrobat because after reading, she was thoroughly convinced he would be one twisted fuck.

And this time, the pun was intended.

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**A/N: OMFG this story is generating so many great reviews, favourites and follows. I may have to start prioritizing updates and give you guys a chapter each week. I'm sorry if this chapter was a bit lame…I'm not particularly pleased with it. I just came back from the worst two weeks of my life and I'm feeling a little out of it. But I decided you guys have waited long enough for an update so I whipped this up.**

**Please Review to keep me motivated.**


	4. The Preliminaries

**Help Wanted**

**Chapter Four – The Preliminaries**

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"**You know my name, not my story. You've heard what I've done, but not what I've been through.**

— **Jonathan Anthony Burkett**

Tenten shifted uneasily in her seat, her face reddening as though something like an electric charge had skittered through her. Refusing to let her tautened nerves get the better of her, she spoke, deploring the wretched high-pitched squeak her breaking voice sometimes embarrassed her with. "I would be more than happy to point you in the direction of Konoha's finest morgue—"

Itachi settled his coffee mug aside and pinned her with his black gaze. His lean, strong face was taut with barely concealed impatience and there was an aura of predatory stillness about the honed, whiplash tight, power-packed frame that suggested a tendency to leap on anyone who stepped out of line and tear them apart limb from limb.

His icy black eyes lingered on the pulsing vein at the side of her neck. His handsome face cold and forbidding, his voice composed. "Excuse me?"

A handful.

That was what Tenten had labeled him from the very beginning. Clearly he was accustomed to getting his own way. Someone needed to teach him that life wasn't like that. And irrespective of her confusing sizzle of attraction to the man, she was capable of putting her foot down if circumstances warranted it.

This was definitely one of those circumstances.

Who conjures up a contract dictating how sex was to be done? A man who likes to be in control of every aspect of his life, a voice in her head answered.

Despite his devastating looks, he truly was a bully, she realized. And it was time she stood up for herself—something she had neglected to do her entire life and look at where it got her.

The irony of her situation was laughable—a trafficked runaway who ended up trafficking her own self. If there was ever such a thing as freedom in captivity, then she supposed this was the closet one could come to experiencing it.

"—because it would appear as if you've got a fetish for fucking the dead," Tenten spluttered, snatching a ragged breath because there had been a severe case of miscommunication between her brain and her tongue. She had no intentions of getting her point across so unseemingly.

If he were a lesser man Uchiha Itachi would have choked on his coffee. He probably would have raked his thick black hair with angry fingers too. Instead, he clenched his fist and shoved them deep into his jacket pockets, not willing to show the slightest indication he felt anything other than indifference to the girl's ridiculous barb.

She grimaced.

He lowered his eyes to watch her mouth take on that grimacing tilt. It was only as he watched it settle back into a straight line again that he realized it was actually a quite beautifully shaped mouth. A stray strand of her chestnut hair whipped across her sun-kissed features and trapped between the soft curve of her coral pink lips.

Gripped by an irrational yearning to wipe away the lock, his fingers twitched in his pockets, preparing to move, but she brushed the wisp of hair behind her ear before he had a chance to do it. The long, silky brownness of it fell in a tousled touchable mass to well below her shoulders.

Pretty shoulders, he noted—sleek of skin, warm with tan, partially concealed by the pink halter top that lovingly cradled truly superb, full and shapely breasts. In a moment of uncharacteristic loss of resolve, he imagined that they would fill his hands like ripe, succulent fruits, their tips hardening against the palm of his hand.

He probed her unsteady gaze, suddenly noticing the magnetic pull her eyes had. The rich, dark brown colour was framed with the most gorgeously thick, curling black eyelashes that managed to add an unexpected appeal to her face that he would never have allowed her before.

Internally shuddering, he pulled his mind away, banned it from the path it sought to follow.

Something twisted inside him—not sexual, but an ache of a different kind. Did she know how badly she was trembling? Or how that slender throat of hers worked like crazy each time she swallowed some of the tea?

"These rules are ridiculous Itachi, I may be naïve but I'm certain that's not how people make love," she dealt him a scathing appraisal, flushing but not backing down.

He cringed at her words. He had never made love to a woman. He'd bedded many. The sex had been satisfying. But to make love, he hardly knew where to begin. Yet it was probably a gift she deserved, given that she had been forcibly obliged to offer him something far more valuable than anything he could ever give to her—would ever give her.

He had never so much as kissed an innocent, and now he'd be taking one to bed—initiating her into a world where he's thought to be an absolute monster. He was torn between immense guilt at the realization that he would have to take her virginity, and a building rage at the thought that his own contract contrived to trap him. There was no backing out now, especially not when he had spend such a hefty sum to acquire her as his surrogate in the first place. His gut twisted, and guilt overrode the anger.

The girl made absolutely no sense to him. She didn't come across as being naïve or sheltered in any way. That she had agreed to enter into such an arrangement with him—not that he'd given her any other choice—without experience just added another piece to her personal puzzle.

He prided himself on being able to read people. His gut feeling had never failed him before. He had good intuition. But he was no closer to figuring her out, or her motives, than when he'd first discovered she'd come to him as a fraud.

What was her story? He wondered, not able to shake the image of a young girl going up against a world that had stolen her idealism and her emotional innocence. He didn't wish to be a part of that—part of that ugly world. And now he'd irrevocably be a part of it—would take that last piece of innocence—her physical innocence—for himself. He didn't plan on using it against her, but he had nothing to offer her either.

She was to bear his children, nothing more.

One of the reasons he'd so carefully avoided women with no experience was because they thought of love and sex as two things inextricably linked, and he honestly didn't have any of that kind of love available. Not anymore.

"Babies are the only things we'll be making Tenten," he corrected her, his voice edged. He despised the bluntness of his words, but he would not give her time to entertain fantasies of something beyond their arrangement.

The simple words of acknowledgement and grudging acceptance rocked through her like an atomic bomb. She put her hands instinctively on her flat belly. A shuddering breath shook her small shoulders.

"I know that," she bit out through a clenched jaw, and wished that she didn't feel the way she did—that she wasn't enslaved by whatever dark magic he wielded over her.

His scowled darkened. As a hint, it seriously raised his annoyance threshold. "So what is the problem?"

Tenten shook her head in disbelief and expelled her breath in a slow hiss. She was struggling to master a temper that was threatening to overwhelm her. She glanced down at the sheaf of paper before her. "You honestly don't see a problem?"

Itachi studied her with brooding dark ferocity, but he said nothing. In the humming quiet, she stared out the window at the garden and waited in vain for his response.

"Agalmatophilia is a paraphilia concerned with sexual attraction to a statue doll, mannequin or other similar figurative object," she explained, sending him an enervated look. "I'm not a mannequin Itachi—"

He frowned, dark eyes unlit by gold, narrowing in a piercing scrutiny that made her uncomfortable.

"—I'm not a mute either, and therefore cannot adhere to the terms you laid out in this contract," she delivered stiffly, her face going pink. Her mouth felt numb and peculiar. She really should have fought the nervous tension that had led her to swallow the hot tea like that. "I will not sign this."

For several nerve-wracking seconds he stared at her. His face remained grim. Her challenge wasn't working. She wasn't reaching him.

"There's a clause in the first contract that binds you to conceive solely on my terms, so it doesn't matter whether or not you sign that." Itachi shot at her with dark eyes that flashed as golden as the heart of a fire. "Just consider it a heads-up."

As an incendiary response leapt onto Tenten's tongue she swallowed it back and welded her lips closed, determined not to say anything before she had thought it through. But sheer shock was ricocheting through her in wave after wave. What had she gotten herself into?

She was shamefully conscious that a craving for money had reduced her to her present predicament. She had always heard the saying that money was the root of all evil. And, looking back to the twisted, reckless decision she had made, Tenten knew that in her case that pronouncement had proved all too true.

Because she had run away from a situation which had become untenable, knowing even then that she would be followed and eventually traced_..._

As the ever-present threat of being found and called to account for her behaviour assailed Tenten, her skin turned clammy with fear. And in her mind's eye then, when she was at her weakest, she would see _**his **_face, dark, devastating and dangerous.

She had gone the extra mile to escape the cruel fate that had awaited her. But she had gone that extra mile in entirely the wrong direction, she acknowledged wretchedly. How could she ever have believed that entering into such a deal with Itachi would do anything but add to her list of problems?

How could she ever have imagined that she could surrender all rights, hand over her own flesh and blood and agree never, ever to try and see her own child?

She had been wickedly and savagely deceived into signing that contract, Tenten reminded herself. How was she to know that her forged place of employment was actually involved with trading young girls?

A wave of disgust washed through Tenten and she pushed it down along with bitter memories. That Itachi would engage in commercial activity with such an unscrupulous organization both baffled and repulsed her.

She asked abruptly, "Why is it so important to have sex rules?" she felt dirty just saying the word.

His mouth thinned. His eyes flashed at her persistence, but he answered tightly, "To keep things professional."

Shock, disbelief and cold horror slammed into Tenten. He might as well have substituted '_professional' _with '_impersonal'_ because it was blatantly obvious from his contract.

Her mouth opened for a moment but nothing emerged. She couldn't articulate, but finally managed a strangled, "Professional?" Words failed her and she closed her mouth helplessly.

His mouth twisted.

Tenten tried to make sense of his words, an awful stomach-churning red mist of anger gripped her. "That's something you'd say to a prostitute—"

Itachi could see injured pride straighten her spine, the shock on her face.

"—and even they are expected to make noises and fidget," she said tapping on the paper before her. When the words that left her mouth impinged on Tenten's consciousness, she felt her cheeks go hot.

She did not just say that.

Silence lengthened and tautened between them. Electric awareness quivered in the air and Itachi shook his head slowly, a smirk curving his lips.

She flushed even hotter, mortified heat drenching her in an upward sweep. Much to her utter humiliation she knew it wasn't_ all _mortification. Some of it was pure_…thrill. _This man was doing nothing short of creating a nuclear reaction within her, comprehensively threatening everything she'd protected herself with for years.

He ran quick eyes over her, making her squirm inwardly before quirking a brow and saying mockingly, "You're not a prostitute are you?"

His cool voice cut through her like a knife. She gritted her jaw, giving him a stricken look of condemnation. "You know damn well that I'm not."

His gaze glittered and darkened. He leant forward too and asked softly, "Then why should we add theatrics to a simple act of exchange?"

She cringed at his choice of words.

They caused little short of an explosion of hurt within her. She tried desperately to block it out—the realization that even then—her brain froze at that implication. Her hands clenched tight on the table and she hid them on her lap.

"Look," Tenten began awkwardly but found that words failed her once more. She couldn't exactly tell him that he was frightening her.

He shrugged one broad shoulder nonchalantly, his gaze on hers not wavering for a second. "When the time comes, you'll have no other choice than to submit." His mouth tightened.

His gaze dropped to where she could feel her breast rising and falling with her breath.

He looked back up and her heart stopped. "And not because it's your job, but because of the inordinate amount of frustration I'm causing you."

She looked at him in shock. His face wasn't creased in hilarity, it was stone cold sober.

"I can smell it from here," he told her, sending a trail of reaction down her taut spinal cord.

Between Tenten's thighs she felt indecently damp. She coloured even more hotly. Could he really smell that? Did desire have a smell? The thought made her squirm, but also made her feel weak and achy. She scrambled out of her seat. Even whilst his bluntness caused her to lose her appetite it was whetting another—of a more potent kind.

She wanted him with a hunger that she'd always intellectualized as something she'd never experience. Except now she was. And it was ten million times worse than anything she could have ever imagined.

She felt sickened with self-disgust.

As she pushed past his chair he snaked out a hand and caught her wrist. She looked down, and he was looking right up at her, trapping her. "Sit down Tenten, we've got quite a few things to discuss," he shoved aside his plate and pulled her onto his lap, earning a startled gasp from the brunette.

She bit her lip, her belly clenching, her eyes widening. She could feel the stroke of each breath he took on the nape of her neck, making tingles run up and down her spine.

He grabbed his tablet, started it up and then scrolled through several pages to get to his list.

Tenten stared at the screen. He had divided his list into several main topics: Pre-pregnancy and Pregnancy. Post-pregnancy. She gave him points for taking an organized approach to life, but this was a bit much.

"I would like to go over the current issues that concern you and me," he informed her.

Her nerves jangled and her heart jolted uneasily against her ribcage. Something deeply ingrained within her kept her from moving a muscle, but it made her voice husky. "What about you and me?"

His voice was curt. "I think I need to clarify our duties and responsibilities to each other."

She felt like a trapped insect, flat on its back and helpless in the face of a looming predator. Determined to negate her disturbing reaction, she tried to focus on the tablet and asked crisply, "Duties and responsibilities?"

Leave it up to Itachi to explain sex using bullet points.

"Yes," he said. "That's the key to understanding our roles. We're collaborating towards achieving a tangible goal and we have guidelines and milestones to meet."

"I'm not going to sit through a long slide presentation that explains how to have sex," she cleared her throat purposefully but her voice came out strangled. The man was absolutely unbelievable.

"This isn't about the _**how**_," he drawled in deep honeyed tones. "It's more about the _**why**_ and the_** when**_."

Tenten swallowed carefully, stifling a retort. She gazed down at the screen, a mixture of dread and excitement licked through her. Before she could argue, Itachi slid his finger across the surface to reveal the first slide. Her eyes were inexorably drawn to the screen.

He had come up with a full-bore bullet point agenda covering her duties and responsibilities, right down to her diet preferences and clothing choices. It was terribly eye-opening. There were estrogen hormone levels to be tested and she would have to monitor her temperature. And then there was something called the luteal phase, which caused a little chill to run up her spine. The very word sounded vaguely sinister and she wished she had paid more attention in biology class.

Itachi knew an awful deal about the female anatomy; it led her to cower at his experience.

It was all strangely mesmerizing. Gruesome and shocking, but she couldn't look away. The last page was a month-by-month production schedule. Itachi gave her a moment to review it, then said, "Base on what the doctor said, you're scheduled to start ovulating in the next five to seven days."

By this time, Tenten was shaking. She could feel the colour washing out of her face, only to be swiftly replaced by mortified heat.

"I've already rearranged my schedule and decided to work from home."

Knowing that she had nothing to lose—other than what she signed over to him in that contract—she didn't curb her tongue, but her voice was still slightly strangled when it came. "It s-says he-here that we sho-should have s-sex Wednesday night and…and…oh, my," she stammered.

"Continue through to the following Monday night, with Friday and Saturday being the most optimum days." He finished off easily, setting the tablet aside casually.

Tenten shivered slightly despite the treacherous heat curling down low in her abdomen. She had seen enough. More than enough. Her eyes were practically bleeding.

She flushed to the roots of her hair, "It's smart to cover all the bases," she swallowed, intensely conscious of the fact that she was still seated in his lap. "But I think you're going about this too rigidly."

The silence lay still and impenetrable as glass.

"Are you forgetting that we're still not on common ground where the _**how**_ is concerned?" Tenten felt her breasts swell with languorous heaviness. Her nipples pinched tight, as if a current of fire had touched them. She folded her arms over herself in mortified discomfiture. "And frankly, all of this is making me nervous."

"Nerves are never good—" he said thoughtfully, absently skimming this thumb along the soft skin of her arm. "—which is why I've scheduled preliminaries for tonight."

Breathless and trembling, she turned her head and looked at him, lost herself in the brilliance of his shimmering dark eyes. A tide of something terrifying swept over her in a stormy wave. "Preliminaries?"

"To take some of the pressure off," he explained with infuriating cool. "I can't have you seizing up when it counts most."

She couldn't get breath into her lungs. Soft lips parting, she snatched in tiny little pants, drowning against her volition in the power of those compelling dark eyes.

"Tonight?" Tenten protested painfully.

"Tonight," he confirmed without hesitation.

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**A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews, follows and favourites. I still cannot believe the overwhelming response to this story. It means a lot to me :)**

**I'm sorry if this chapter was uneventful. I promise upcoming ones won't be =^.^= And yes Itachi is a very thorough person xD Questions, comments, concerns?**

**Please Review to keep me motivated.**

**In response to an anonymous review regarding the cover art. I actually found it while browsing Itaten on google LOL xD**


	5. Their Shamed Pasts

**Help Wanted **

**Chapter Five - Their Shamed Pasts**

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"**When you're young, you think everything you do is disposable. You move from now to now, crumpling time up in your hands, tossing it away. You're your own speeding car. You think you can get rid of things and people too—leave them behind. You don't yet know about the habit they have, of coming back.****Time in dreams is frozen. You can never get away from where you've been."**

― **Margaret Atwood**

Tonight was too soon.

Tenten began to tremble, tremble with shock, with horror, and with a real fear.

The tension swirling between them choked her into reticence.

She stiffened violently in the Uchiha's lap, the lingering shock and the awful worry bruising the soft skin around her eyes.

This was really happening.

Something stirred deep inside her, what, she couldn't explain, but Itachi felt it too, because he shifted tensely beneath her, and a shower of electric sparks brought goose-bumps out on her skin.

It took every ounce of willpower she possessed to make her voice even and steady when she finally spoke—as unseemly as her declaration came out. "I don't want you to fuck me, Itachi."

"We don't use that kind of language in this house," he whispered in her ear, the warmth of his body suddenly too intimate for the brunette to draw breath easily. He drew back a little, "And I wouldn't dream of doing that."

She wasn't insulted, but the breath that left her body came on a stunned rush of air. "What?"

"That would require leaving you sore," she was bluntly and unashamedly informed.

Tenten shuddered, her eyes closing on a dizzying wave of horror, against the pain stabbing at her skull; aware that her headache was due as much to the four nights she went without sleep, as to her rising nervous tension. Itachi was so grim and forbidding that the prospect of giving her virginity to him after such a startling remark was suddenly unendurable.

He ran his hand up from her waist to the underside of her breast. A tremor shot through her body and it made her shiver. She hadn't had this kind of contact ever.

The kind that was non-violent in nature.

Briefly her mind flashed with the image of a long, heated iron. So hot, the carefully carved symbol at the end glowed neon red. Five inches long, half an inch thick, she remembered with precise detail. Then she heard it in her head, the piercing shrill of a wail. That of her own. It felt so real, her throat ached. It sounded so unimaginary that her ears rang. And almost instinctively the skin beneath the waistband of her underwear—just above her left hip—stung as if the flesh was being burned away from her bone again.

She would be damned if she allowed anyone to catch even a glimpse of that mark. A mark that branded her like livestock. What if Itachi were to cringe at the sight of it? At the sight of her? She would never recover. That was the ultimate form of rejection.

A pained gasp broke from her thickened throat as a face she dreaded, materialized in her subconsciousness. Cruel eyes, black and grim, mouth set in a thin, uncompromising line that told her once and for all how little he really cared for her as a real living breathing person. She brought a hand to her cheek, imagining the all too familiar spasm of pain rippling across it.

How long had it been since she felt the crack of a fist against her? Long enough for her wounds to heal, she deduced. But whilst wounds heal, the scars would forever remain the same...if not the physical ones, then those that were emotional in nature certainly would.

Itachi wasn't like him, she told herself. At least Itachi identified her as belonging to the opposite sex and not something bordering on being not-human or without gender. She had to admit that, as sexist and demeaning as her use to Itachi was, it was a step up from the role she played in her previous household.

Anything would be.

But she had unknowingly let the Uchiha's easy manner and indecent proposal lull her into a false sense of security, when her well-tuned instincts had sent out warning signals straight away.

He reminded her so much of _**him—**_same colouring, the same arrogance. An arrogance that had turned her stomach from the very first day _he_ had accepted her into _his_ family. _He_ must had been at least fifteen years older than this man, _his_ looks spoiled by far more years of cynicism.

Itachi did not turn her stomach in the same way, she realized worriedly. And maybe that was one of the reasons why he frightened her perhaps more than _**he**_ had ever done. His softly spoken words had held so many hidden messages that they truly frightened her. But, above all, the actual air she was breathing was frightening her—simply because it was filled with the appealing scent of him.

There was a short pause, filled with a throbbing silence. It settled over the kitchen. She trembled even more, the memory of her past that she was trying desperately to stave, forcing her to breathe in small hurried gasps.

The silence between them grew hot and heavy. Then, without warning, Itachi sat forward and reached for his mug of dark, rich, coffee. The aroma threatened to torment Tenten's parched mouth, forcing her to swallow drily, but it was the fact she fell even deeper into the cradle of his lap that left her disconcerted.

"I'll only do what it takes to make certain you conceive," he continued definitively when she hadn't managed to utter a single word in response.

Her brows furrowed and she was suddenly grateful that Itachi couldn't see the apprehension in her gaze. Though she was certain he could feel it in how rigidly she sat on his knees and hear it in her growingly hoarse voice. "There's a difference?" It was a croak.

She swallowed hard. How was sex different from fucking?

A swell of something remarkably reminiscence of consideration took the Uchiha completely by surprise. None of the women he had ever been with had shown any inhibitions about having sex with him. The poignant vulnerability he had seen Tenten's eyes underpinned his knowledge of her innocence. It made him acutely conscious that tonight was not to be a casual tumble in the old sack. Not for her. Not for him, either.

It was make or break.

If he didn't get it right for her, didn't make her feel good about giving herself to him, then the chances of their little arrangement becoming a success would be bleak. He had to make her first sexual experience pleasurable enough for her to be comfortable with—possibly even look forward to—repetitions. And there needed to be quite a number of reoccurrences to increase her chances of getting pregnant.

Accomplishing the aforementioned feat in the first month would prove advantageous. There was going to be a ton of deadlines to meet at work that would render his schedule inflexible in the coming months. Hence, he had to make the most out of the opening given to them now.

Itachi knew however, that at the end of the day, it all came down to Tenten. He could conjure up his elaborate production plans all he liked, if she refused him, then he had no other choice than to lag behind until the following month's auspicious period. Bound to a contract or not, he would not pressure her into anything she wasn't entirely comfortable with. Even if she had no other choice than to eventually get cozy with the idea of sleeping with him.

For several long, agonizing seconds he said nothing, but then his brows rose and he drawled mockingly, "Of course there's a difference," he answered, sliding an arm around her waist to turn her to face him.

He stayed put for timeless seconds, his dark eyes scorching her.

Off their own accord his fingers grazing softly down her cheek, tracing her lips with tantalizing tenderness. "But if you stay clear of angering me then there's no need to worry about it."

Her lips quivered under his feather-light finger touch, parting slightly as she sucked in a deep breath. There were no sparks of fiery amber in her eyes. The brown had darkened into pools of dark chocolate—huge eyes swimming with unbridled emotion that tugged at someplace private in him, asking silent questions he knew he couldn't answer.

The smooth olive of her skin made him wonder how it would feel. And his finger pads reveled in its satin softness as he slid them across her cheek and into her hair, so thick and glossy, like massed strands of silk.

Her hands had lifted to his chest, not to push him away, but resting there tentatively, not quite prepared to actively encourage more physical intimacy, yet he could feel the taut waiting in her body, the wanting for him to take the initiative, to make something happen.

But there was no need to prove the existence of any sexual chemistry between them and he didn't want too move fast. He wanted to explore every facet of her, know all that she was, unlock that unyielding innocence of hers.

One of his arms held her clamped against him; the other stroked the length of her bare thigh. The higher his hand glided the more she had to brace her inner thighs to try to contain what was happening there. And her breasts were tight, the nipples two stinging pinpricks pressing against the solid wall of his chest through his shirt.

"You're awfully touchy for someone who doesn't like to be touched," she protested huskily.

Husky did it. He felt that low sensual voice reach right down inside him and give a hard tug on his loins. Because registering just how close he actually had her was charging some sort of sexual buzz. He could feel it moving through his blood in a slow and sluggishly threatening burn, scary yet exciting like a war he was having to fight on two fronts.

It was awful, Itachi decided, and he shifted uncomfortably on the chair, very aware of the heat of his body from just having her at such close proximity. "Stand up," he commanded lightly, peeling her off his front.

She complied with an eagerness he found a little offensive.

He studied her. Her top did not fit her. It was too tight in places, like across those two plumped breasts that were in danger of falling out of it. The tight cotton shorts she wore hugged the rounded shape of her slender hips like a second skin.

She was standing like a stature, with her arms held tensely to her sides, hazel eyes telling him that she was scared. And yet the look suited her so well that another man may have taken it as an invitation to wipe everything from the table, lay her upon its surface and plant himself between those slender legs of hers.

Heat surged through him again and he ruthlessly ignored the faint whisper of regret that it had to be like this, that sleeping with her would be nothing more than a business transaction. What else could it be? He brooded. He needed an heir; she needed a job. It was as simple and clinical as that. He should have no compunction about taking her to bed.

Some might say that she had asked for everything that was happening to her but Itachi was reluctantly prepared to admit that he hadn't actually been very understanding.

"Turn around."

He knew she only had to take a proper look at him to see the dark shadows beneath his eyes and the lines of strain beside his nose and mouth to know that he hadn't slept. At all. Instead he had prowled his office until the early hours of this morning, going over in his head, how the possibility that she may have been a virgin had slipped him. It was still wracking at his brain.

She tensed in objection. "What?" she asked briskly.

A nerve pulsed in his jaw and his mouth tightened before he answered her, "I'd like to see you from behind," he informed her levelly, and he saw the flush deepen in her cheeks.

Her eyes had become almost black with the depth of her response. He could see her breasts through the material of her blouse, through the cream outline of her bra, their dark, aroused tips clearly visible through those thin layers of silky fabric as they pouted invitingly.

Yet it was his own reaction that unnerved him. It an unexpected complication that filled him with self-disgust. Even though he was certain that he looked prim and proper, sitting before her, his hands now modestly linked, his knees pressed together, he knew without a doubt that he wasn't sitting like that out of modesty.

"When you do see my behind Mr. Uchiha, it will be walking through that front door," she fixed him with an icy stare.

It made him want to grimace, because if she was allowing herself to believe that such an expression was going to hold him back she was sadly mistaken. Despite the frost, she'd switched him on and now, he discovered, he was not feeling inclined to switch himself off again.

In fact he was beginning to enjoy the sexual sting that was passing between them.

"It's Itachi," he invited smoothly, choosing to ignore her momentary swell of defiance. "Turn around."

She did. He frowned because he would have been prepared to swear that right now she would rather spit in his face than comply with anything he wanted her to do.

"Now go upstairs, do the essentials, get dressed and be back down here in half an hour," he instructed tersely. His brows rose when she did not move.

"You can't tell me what to do. You don't own me," Tenten said angrily.

"Until you bear me a child, I can do exactly what I like with you," he warned her, in a voice laced with such blatant sexual intent that a shiver ran the length of her spine.

She folded her arms and remained rooted to the spot. "I'd really like to see you try," she said defiantly, and then blushed scarlet as she realized what she had said.

"Don't doubt that I won't," he assured her gravely. Then his patience suddenly evaporated, and he caught hold of her hand and marched her upstairs to her bedroom. Tenten shook all the way there.

"A few of my business associates are coming over, so dressed accordingly," he growled, but his frown deepened when he flung open the wardrobe and flicked through the few outfits she had brought with her.

"What for?" she asked. The less people she had to interact with, the better. "Do I have to be there?"

"They will be sampling my new line of wines." He paused. She didn't miss the emphasis he placed on the word _'they' _or that his expression had grown a little stern. "None for us, there's no drinking before sex."

The smirk he sent her had 'wicked' stamped right through it and she felt her stomach curl nervously in a response as involuntary as it was unexpected.

Uchiha Spirits

She reflected on the name of Itachi's company and wondered if there was some deeper meaning behind it. She had heard from one of the maids that he was the lone survivor of his family—that his parents and younger brother had been gunned down and killed in cold blood years ago. Tenten knew from her own experience that the hands of time hadn't the healing powers people often claimed it did. Which was why the proverbial '_Spirits'_ could be symbolic in some essence.

She was however aware that his enterprise flaunts an impressive array of alcoholic beverages. So the use of that specific word could simply be an indication of the type of market his business was in. But when it's most popular drink went by the name _Massacre_, it left a lot in question.

In fact, Uchiha Spirits became popular some years ago through its production of _Massacre_—a very complex, charming and subtle wine, bright ruby red in colour with violet reflections. The aromas of ripe berries, a hint of cherries and subtle herbaceous finish with good length and structure.

Having tried it herself, she knew why it was such a big deal. Its mellow tannins, attractive freshness and hints of red fruit were teasing delights on the palate. Contrary to what it's given name may insinuate—thick, unpalatable with a sour, metallic tang.

"Why did you take so few things with you?" his eyes narrowed, closing the wardrobe with a decisive snap.

"The clothes I've brought with me are all that I own," she told him, trying to avoid the effect of his look of disbelief. "I can't afford to buy new clothes," she admitted wearily, her temper flaring at the now sardonic expression forming on his face.

She hadn't the luxury of owning a credit card, but she supposed that it was a good thing. Cards were traceable and she wouldn't have had any means of footing bills. What little valuables she owned _(stole when she was leaving)_ were sold in order to cover basic living expenses for the past three months. Three months that left her without a penny to her name.

He glanced at his watch casually, "Tomorrow I'll take you shopping," he told her, the glinting amusement in his eyes masking his shock at her assertion that the dress-to-kill woman who had stepped into his office earlier this week was merely just for show. "Something in here will have to suffice for today," he said in a harder tone when she opened her mouth to argue. "Ironically your lack of a wardrobe doesn't affect tonight in any way," he ushered her to the bathroom.

His words put her on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Once she heard the slam of bedroom door, she stripped out of her clothes and stepped inside the shower, not sure if she wanted to throw things or cry her eyes out.

The tears almost won the moment she stepped beneath the shower spray and she would have let them if Itachi had not chosen that moment to push open the bathroom door and stride fully naked into the shower.

As if they had will of their own her eyes dropped curiously low.

She would have released a shocked cry, except her breath hitched in her throat. Her heart was thudding so hard that it hurt to breathe. It was like having something vital taken from her, and Tenten had to measure carefully the breath she dragged into her suddenly gasping lungs in case she should hyperventilate.

"No, don't stiffen up," he said as she did exactly that.

"Itachi, what the fuck are you doing in here?" Her voice was shrill with panic. She instinctively tried to cover her breasts with her hands and squeezed her eyes tightly shut.

She'd never felt so afraid in her entire life. Her head was whirling and her legs had gone hollow.

He caught her wrists and tugged them down to her sides and drew her back against him, angling both of them so the shower sprayed down her front, then dropped his lips to her ear. "Relax, I don't like that you're squeamish around me," he answered offhandedly. "It's high time you got familiarized with the male anatomy."

Hysteria formed a bubble in her throat.

"You'll be seeing a lot of it."

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**A/N: I'm not too sure I like the snail-pace of this story and when I don't like something, shit never ends well Grrrr! Plus my muse is feeling a little traumatized at the moment. I tried to shake things up by writing a little from Itachi's perspective, it wasn't as effective…oh well. I'm sure you've uncovered at least one thing about each character. **

**I ain't even gonna lie, the next chapter is a little heavy. If you can't stomach that sort of thing. Wait for Chapter Seven :P and no its not a lemon (it's too early for that)...just really awkward, citric-like content. I don't know why I find it funny...**

**Review and I'll love you forever!**


	6. The Tease

**Help Wanted**

**Chapter Six – The Tease**

**Dedicated to Amy Roth **

**Reader's Discretion is Advised [Mature Content]**

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"**In a perfect world, you could fuck people without giving them a piece of your heart. But in reality every glittering kiss and every touch of flesh is another shard of heart you'll never see again."**

—**Neil Gaiman**

Tension zinged down Tenten's backbone and remained there stinging like an electric charge. Itachi was standing right behind her. And despite the cold spray of the shower she could feel his body heat along her back.

Inside she was fainting—it was the only way her muzzy head could think of describing that odd, dragging feeling that seemed to be trying to sink her like liquid to the ground. Even the roots of her hair reacted stingingly as his chin brushed across the top of her head.

A hand moved against her spine like a finely brushed admonishment.

"Open your eyes," he rasped in annoyance.

The silk smooth of his tone sent a shiver of dread creeping across the nape of her neck, for she had no doubt whatever demands he made she'd be forced to agree.

After all, she did sell her body to him. He owned her.

She could feel his breath fanning her ear, sending ripples of heat through her. Her skin felt hot and stretched over her bones. And her body was strangely weighted and unfamiliar. She interpreted the sensations as fear. He scared her.

He was volatile. Unpredictable. The kind of man whose only law was himself. Yet he fascinated and unnerved her in equal measures, and her awareness of his close proximity played like a bow across the taut string of her nerves, which in turn kept every sense she possessed honed on him—on what he was doing.

"Turn around and look at me Tenten." He ran a fingertip down her arm, delighting in the slight tremor.

Feeling the pressure of his fingers slither a streak of heat over her shoulders, she hurriedly tried to bury the sensation in a rush of speech. "That really isn't necessary, I've seen—I've seen," she couldn't force the lie out, squeezing her eyes even tighter shut.

She didn't have to see his face to know that a smirk was curling his lips. He was reveling in her obvious discomfiture. "But you haven't seen me, have you?"

The sexy, suggestive timbre of his voice in her ear and the hard-muscled chest pressing against her back sent her vocabulary flying. "I—uh. I—don't. Itachi," she growled out of frustration.

Her legs were trembling; there was a dull, raw ache in her pelvis, sick muzziness in her head and clawing at her stomach, sick breathlessness in her lungs.

It terrified her. He terrified her.

Her breasts felt tender—so tender and swollen and, when his hands swept up her narrow ribcage and cupped them she froze, dredged from pleasure to dismay.

She stopped breathing. Pulsing jets of stinging, hot awareness sprayed heat across her trembling flesh.

Crazily she found herself leaning weakly against him, sponge-kneed and dizzy with the strange cacophony of reactions taking place inside her. Her mouth was throbbing, her heart trembling and her damp breasts quivering where he was touching her.

"What are you doing?" her heart jolted uneasily in her chest, hysteria settling in.

"Shhh..." he cooed but it was without the intent to soothe. "You have to get comfortable with the idea of being touched by me," he informed her tersely.

Oh Kami, Tenten whimpered.

When she signed that contract she had no idea she'd be subjected such sexual servitude.

He took one soft mound in his palm, stroking the nipple gently with his thumb. She opened her eyes at that moment to see it pucker and hardened into throbbing life. There was something so erotic about watching his wet hand work expertly at her bust.

Sensation pierced her, a glancing pleasure shockingly akin to pain, as it arrowed its path through bone and blood to the secret centre of her womanhood, and Tenten heard herself make a small bewildered sound that was almost a moan.

Oh Kami, what was happening to her?

"Turn around," he instructed softly, smoothing back her wet hair from the side of her face.

"No."

She would not be bullied and most importantly, she would not let him see that mark. Couldn't risk it.

"This is just an exercise, I have no intentions of taking you against the bathroom walls," he said in a monotonous voice which couldn't have made him sound any less casual about the issue than he already appeared. "Turn around."

"No Itachi. This is just you being impossible," her heart was hammering at the mental images his comment had conjured up.

"I'm being impossible?" his hand tightened around her breast, a sign that his temper was steadily rising. "You signed my contract," he reminded her sharply.

"Yes, I agreed to have your child," she conceded. "But I'll only fuck you on my terms." She told him as firmly as she could, thinking nothing of her very profane way of referring to the act. Where she came from, swearing was practically seen as common courtesy. "And what has your contract got to—?"

He cut her off with a growl, "—child, if I were to fuck you, you wouldn't be able to walk for days." The word sounded so odd—so menacing coming from his lips, she quivered. "So stop talking like that," his lips were dangerously close to her ear again. "I'll have sex with you. I'll get you pregnant and you'll bear me a son," he told her brusquely, like he was simply listing something from a business agenda.

She swallowed against a desert-like dryness in her throat, not sure she knew how to respond to that. Because the difference between having sex and getting fucked was blatantly obvious just then. Sex was between humans. Fucking was for animals. And she supposed they were both animals in their own rights—Itachi was a wild one and Tenten was a stray.

"Either way, I'm not turning around."

"Hn?"

"You almost gave me a heart-attack!" The thread of panic that wounded through her, yanked tighter.

"The longer you take to get pass handling the basics, the longer you'll be here," he argued logically.

Uchiha Itachi was synonymous with unbelievable, she was convinced. "This isn't some sex training camp Itachi!"

"Turn around and look at me Tenten," he instructed flatly without regard.

"No!" she stomped her feet.

He gave a ragged groan of impatience. She felt his hand tighten in her hair and the length of something potently male and hard rub against the juncture of her legs from behind. She wasn't too sure whether she should've felt defeat or triumph at the knowledge that she had aroused him.

What Tenten was certain she felt was blood curdling fear.

Fear, that she was allowing herself to be ruled by yet another male. Except, this time the final blow would be delivered. Her pride as a woman would be irretrievable. She would be forever ruined for any other man in the future. But given how unfortunate her experiences with the opposite sex had been, she's better off not entertaining the hope of the textbook romance. Ever.

Men were power-hungry monster._** Him**_ with the beatings, Itachi with the sex rules...it was about ruling. Dominance. Playing God and taking things _(her!)_ under their control.

Her thighs pressed together, off their own volition as if he had programmed her response. Tenten shivered, lanced by a sudden startling sensation deep in the pit of her stomach.

Her entire body jerked with renewed shock, her legs trembling, the unbearable ache stirring between her thighs made her teeth grit together in a kind of agonized pleasure.

"Don't be stubborn," he warned. "Turn around."

"No," Tenten protested breathily.

He moved against her again or she moved against him. It was hard to discern. But it forced the taunt tip of his shaft to tease her folds, and a fire flamed within her—a slow, spreading fire that licked through her. A long, low pulse started in her veins, and in every cell of her body a warm, dissolving heat began to steal.

She made the mistake of looking down again, at herself—where she felt his flesh gliding along her own. It was then that she saw the head of it, slipping back and forth between her thighs. And she lost the ability to breathe.

"Oh my God," came her startled cry.

Something black and dark was rolling in, darker than anything she had ever known. Stifling her, annihilating her. Slaying her. And she wondered if she would even be able to fit her hand around the thickness of him, let alone have him put it where it was supposed to go. That would be catastrophic, especially taking into consideration the previous threat he made.

At the thought it was as if the voltage applied to her flesh had just been increased.

The fire was licking now, like flames at dry grass, spreading through her veins. She could hear low, aching moans, and knew they were coming from her throat, but she could not stop them. She had no will, no power. Not when it felt so sinfully electric to have both their wet bodies clinging to each other like a magnet on iron.

Her lips felt parched, regardless of the cold spray of water that ensured no part of them stayed dry. She was forced to acknowledge however, that there was a wetness to her that had more to do with the man behind her than the shower above them. She felt so moist at the apex of her thighs that she was embarrassed. Was it normal?

She was in another world, a bewitching world of sensuality, aware of her body as she had never been aware of it before, aware of her capacity for pleasure and utterly seduced by the desperate need for that same pleasure to continue.

Something had taken her over. Consumed her so completely, so absolutely, she was helpless in its thrall, in its overpowering, overwhelming need.

"You're being unfair Itachi," she told him in a shadow of a voice. It was all she could muster when the smooth length of him was still rubbing against her. If she didn't know any better she would have thought her heart had migrained. Between her legs was throbbing like a heartbeat.

"I don't like disobedience," He stroked her cheek, then moved lightly down the line of her throat to mould the curve of her shoulder and rest there.

She was being stripped of every thought, every feeling. The surging hunger of her own body for sensation was terrifyingly greedy. She had no will, no emotion, only total, absolute submission to the foreign thrill he was arousing from her, stroking from her, caressing from her.

"This is the last time that I'm going to tell you to turn around," Itachi muttered unsteadily.

She gasped, at fever pitch. "Close your eyes and I will."

"Stop being such a child." He nudged her legs apart with his knee, a hand beginning a leisurely traverse of her stomach, skimming the hollow of her pelvis to reach, with tantalizing slowness, her slender thighs, and lingered there, fondling their pliant softness, before sweeping over the swell of her buttocks and gliding them over her flanks—rhythmically, almost soothingly.

Tenten gave another startled whimper.

She realized that he was building on the insidious torment he'd already created—punishing her—forcing her to writhe because he was touching her everywhere but there—those soft, hidden places where, she was burning, melting.

At last, his hand moved to the joining of her thighs for one heart-stopping moment, then drifting inwards, brushing over her secret flesh and the tiny sensitive bud it concealed and paused there to coax it erect, before gliding onwards to let his fingers penetrate the molten core of her with one sure and gentle thrust.

Her breath sobbed from her throat as she choked his name, almost extinguished, as she felt her body flood with delight and she thrashed herself against him not merely accepting what he'd done, but inciting him deliberately to deepen his exploration of her most intimate being.

Even in her dazed state of mind, she was conscious enough to worry about the mark. But her reluctance to give in wasn't just stemmed from that only, Tenten was thoroughly terrified by the sheer force of the alien need in her. "Please, Itachi, close your eyes and I'll turn around."

The Uchiha chose not to listen; instead, his thumb rediscovered that small nub of damp, heated, responsive flesh and was skillfully stroking it with a delicate, yet sensual mastery that made it difficult for her to breathe. Driving her, urging her far into that dark and unknown place that she'd feared.

The feeling growing inside her transcended excitement, an inexorable spiral of intensity threatened her last remnants of control, and she was close to panic because what was happening to her now was already too much and she couldn't bear any more.

She felt as if she was going to die. "Itachi!"

She tried to tell him to stop, but the only sound emerging from the tightness of her throat was a small frantic moan that spelled desire, not protest.

And then it was altogether too late, because she was caught, swept irresistibly away on a rising tide of sensation that was almost an agony. Finding herself lifted to some pinnacle, then flung from it, crying out as her straining, panting body convulsed in spasm after spasm of helpless, exquisite pleasure, before she was sent spinning, back down to a reality that had changed forever.

She slumped against Itachi, his strong arms preventing her from sinking to the floor like a boneless doll, she became aware that he was turning her around to face him. But felt too lazy and languid to put up a fight. A sizzling—or was it a shivering?—sensation rippled through her limbs, rendering them limp and almost useless.

His eyes were closed, the expression on his face equally as austere as it was tender. For the first time a smile curved one corner of his mouth. It was one of triumph. "You'll be wise not to disobey me again."

Her eyes widened and she sucked in a gulp of air.

Those words sounded so familiar that for a moment she had to fight the blurriness of her sight to make certain they had come from Itachi and not a ghost from her past. Still with her eyes hazy with spent passion and her body limp with release she knew there was no way they could have—simply because she wasn't doubling over in pain, clutching some part of her.

"Why are your eyes closed?" she asked, silently congratulating herself on the calm, even tone of her voice even though her body was quickening again, readying for another—more potent—shattering release.

She held her breath and backed away from him, away from the tension, the friction of flesh against flesh. The reality of what she had allowed him to do to her was pounding through her head like the repeated strike of a tambourine. So much so that it felt like she had suffered blunt force trauma.

The throbbing increased tenfold as her eyes fixated unblinkingly on that daunting juncture between muscle-taut thighs.

He obviously felt no qualms about standing stark naked in front of her. But to her this was one of the most critical occasions of her life. And she could neither move, breathe nor speak. Dry-mouthed, she stared at him, horrified by the slow, rumbling burn beginning to erupt deep down inside her.

Desire.

And a fascination so strong that she couldn't even make herself look the other way. Her eyes flickered, then shifted to graze over wide shoulders and bulging biceps.

His chest was wide and firm. His stomach so tight that she felt she could throw a punch at it and not make it give so much as a fraction. Then those hips—those narrow, tight hips so arrogantly cradling the essence of the man himself, a man endowed with such power that she could almost feel its—

"You told me to close them." He pulled in a deep breath, released it slowly. "Would you like me to reopen them?"

The enquiry barely impinged on her concentration. She was too lost in what was happening to him, too busy watching in paralyzed awe as his body stirred, hardened, and grew into full masculine arousal.

Tenten took in a short, shaky breath and moistened her dry lips with her tongue. She couldn't move, was unable to do anything other than watch him fill with desire, and feel her own senses fill with the same.

He only had to step forward, grip his maleness and lift her up against him to slip himself between her trembling thighs, she thought with an indrawn gasp. And from the way her body was reacting, she probably wouldn't fight him off.

"Familiarizing yourself I presume," he arched a brow.

"No!" she said quickly, flashing him a sharp look. But there was not a hint in his face of the dry amusement she thought she'd detected in his voice. "Get out," she stammered, rearing away from him like a terrified animal.

"Let this be a lesson Tenten," Itachi cautioned, then to her surprise he blindly felt his way out of the cubicle while she stood staring after him, mesmerized by those exposed buttocks rippling as he moved.

As soon as his form disappeared from her view, she bolted to the bathroom door and locked it. Then she slid heavily down its smooth, paneled white surface onto the cold, hard ceramic-tiled floor.

Her knees came up, her arms wrapping tensely around them, then her head was lowering, the silken tangle of her hair falling like a curtain all around her as she sat huddled, shivering.

If this was part one, she had no intentions of influencing a part two.

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**A/N: I know...I know...I made a mini production out of that shower scene. I just couldn't help myself xD I'm sorry, please don't hate/slaughter me for it T.T **_**(I'll feel like shit if you did) **_**I'll try to update every five to seven days because the longer I take to, the more uninterested I get. And I quit easily. **

**I apologize on Itachi's behalf for his behaviour -_- I'm sorry he deals with these things so casually. He just comes off that way to me lol. **

**Reviews keep me motivated, just saying ;)**


	7. Breaking The Rules

**Help Wanted**

**Chapter Seven – Breaking the Rules**

**Dedicated to Ami1010**

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"**Sometimes we have to step out of our comfort zones. We have to break the rules. And we have to discover the sensuality of fear. We need to face it, challenge it, dance with it."**

—**Kyra Davis**

Tenten's pallor was pronounced and a sick feeling was curdling in her stomach as she gripped the banister and descended the stairs. Her legs were like jelly and she bit her lip, tensed her jaw—anything to stop the awful burning emotion from erupting from her chest.

She heard Itachi's voice amongst the murmur coming from the sitting room, the unrelenting thud of the bass in it rattled her body until she felt she might break. Her face flamed, and her belly quivered much to her abject disgust.

Her body was still throbbing slightly and she felt exposed and vulnerable.

A cold sweat broke out on her brow. But she fought not to sag just yet and tried to banish the traumatizing memory of his unclothed body, but it was permanently burnt into her psyche. Images crowded in-hot, turbulent images darkened her eyes and thickened her breath. Then came the shudder of shame—the kind that came with knowing how easily and thoroughly she had surrendered to the morass of feelings raging through her in the shower.

Her heart clenched so hard, so painfully that all she saw was black for a moment.

For a long while she had sat on the bathroom floor—numb, staring at nothing in particular. And then, as if she'd been lacking oxygen, she sucked in a huge, choking, gasping breath. And with it came a surge of nausea.

She made for the toilet just in time to retch pathetically into the bowl until there was nothing left but bile. Weak and shaking, she had slumped against the wall, unaware of the tears running down her cheeks. Then she took a long, steaming hot shower, thinking perhaps it might eradicate the painfully intense feelings Itachi had aroused in her when he'd touched her.

It hadn't.

Retracing the path his hands had taken with her soap and rag hadn't done anything but sent sexual frissons of sensation running through her like liquid lightning.

Disgust and chagrin broke over her in cold, sickening waves. Was she really so weak?

She must have suffered temporary amnesia to have spread her thighs so willingly for his fingers to slide between her legs, finding the secret spot and pressed it, flicked it. For a cataclysmic moment before the invasion, she had actually felt the novel desire to know what it would feel like to have him touch her there.

Shame and mortification and self-disgust than she could ever remember feeling coursed through her in a tidal wave of heat so intense she felt feverish. Because when she should've felt such crucial emotions, there had been no feeling of disgust to her shame and horror. She had only felt herself responding. Felt shock at the sheer physicality of her reaction that made her feel clammy. The blood had roared into her head, drowning out everything but the clamour for satisfaction which had come towards her like the mirage of an oasis in the desert.

Lost in thought, Tenten missed her footing and would have landed face down at the foot of stairs had it not been for sharp reflexes. At least that was still working, she thought to herself.

But the energy exerted to keep herself upright sent a rasping breath tearing at her lungs. It took another three minutes before her breathing and heart rate returned to normal. She wondered however, how long she could hang on to the threads of apparent normality. It seemed her brain was stuck, the same thing going over and over in her mind till she wanted to scream in despair and hopelessness.

There had been nothing tender about what Itachi had done to her earlier; it was just cruel ruthlessness to teach her a lesson. To dominate her. To teach her that no one ever crossed him and came away laughing. And knowing that increased her fear of what was to come, because nothing in her limited, second-hand knowledge of intimacy would prepare her for it. Especially not if she was to go to bed with him after she had put him in a bad mood.

She needed to thread lightly as of now.

Tenten bit her lip, wavering. It had all sounded so simple—their deal, the way he'd put it. Cut and dried. But it was anything but that.

She pressed a fist to her chest to try and keep down the emotion that was threatening to rip through her. This was what she had bargained for and Tenten knew, irrespective of their contract and demeaning sex schedules, Itachi would make the most out of their situation—the most out of her. He was a man after all; in service to no one but himself.

She understood that he would never habour any deep feelings for her. But it seemed inconceivable that she could ever contemplate sex without love. Worse, that she could want a man who saw her as nothing more than a convenient womb and possible sex object.

Her stomach cramped. The pain racked her. Fear raced through her, draining what little strength she had. The danger of potentially being used for his entertainment had never dawned on her before. She wouldn't let that happen, but how could she ever prevent it when—?

An edge of panic made her try to exert control over her emotions. She would only be able to deal with this if her emotions weren't invested. This was business, pure and simple. She'd give him an heir, take her fortune and walk away. She simply could not imagine a different scenario and didn't want to.

A natural maternal stirring, maybe, or something much more frightening gripped her at the idea of having his child.

The very prospect of becoming a mother had always been such anathema to her that she just hadn't been able to envisage it. Albeit her age, the world she grew up in was not suited for children. A world that had humiliated and broken her, made her into a shadow of what she could have been. Her own trials had made her determined above all else not to put any child of hers at the risk of going through the same thing.

But…this was to be Itachi's baby, not her own, Tenten reminded herself. Surely, he'd keep any child of theirs—his—safe.

She put a hand to her temple where a pulse throbbed painfully. Nausea was rising again but she kept it down and made her way across the hall on legs that felt as if there was no better thing than giving in.

She couldn't let herself think too closely about what she signed up for or she'd be incapacitated with nervousness and guilt. The truth was Tenten wasn't certain about anything at all. It was when she stepped into the room, Tenten decided she was wrong. She was certain about one thing.

Her uncertainty.

It just grew and grew until she felt as if she would choke from it even before Itachi stretched his arm out in welcome. He was a devastatingly elegant figure in a dark blue suit expertly tailored to his tall, powerful physique.

She shouldn't have allowed him to bully her into meeting with his associates. It was too risky.

"This is Tenten," he told them when she moved towards him, gripping a possessive arm around her waist. The other hand cradled a cup of black coffee, trained liquid dark eyes fixated on her. "Are you alright?" he lowered his voice.

Even that light, innocent touch had filled her with the most incredible alarm. Her heart was hammering too, rattling against her ribs with enough force to restrict her breathing. She bit down on her lower lip, even white teeth pressing into lush, ruby-coloured flesh, and her dusky lashes lowered to hide her discomfort as warm colour began to seep into her cheeks.

"You gave me such a fright, I would have pissed my pants," she hissed softly, managing a smile for each of his guest as he introduced them individually.

To her relief, they were only four of them and judging from how informally they spoke to each other, they were all friends.

"—had you been wearing any," he added without humour.

He was insufferable and close enough for her to pick up on the spicy scent of his cologne and note the flexing of lean strong muscle below his shirt as he leant forward, compensating for the height difference between them. At over six feet tall, he towered over her five feet four inches.

Even as she looked at him, Tenten was disturbed by an ill-timed recollection of the mind-boggling pleasure he had given her. Her face coloured as agonizing awareness washed over her.

For want of something else to do with her eyes, she dealt herself a self-conscious appraisal, scowling at the realization that she had only ever made any effort to get _'dolled up'_ twice in her entire life, and on both occasions it had been because of Uchiha Itachi.

Pathetic.

She had dressed herself in a short-skirted, coral-pink dress, its low neckline drawing attention to the smooth skin of her throat. She'd plaited her hair and wound it into a coronet, and pearl earrings dangled from her ears. She thought she looked older, and more sophisticated. Next to Itachi's suited colleagues however, she couldn't help but feel over-dressed and a little unimportant.

"Don't let me catch you drinking any alcohol," he warned icily, handing her his half-finished mug of coffee.

She took it dumbly, not sure what she was to do with it. At his candid reminder, and painfully aware of his merciless scrutiny, Tenten folded down on to one of the leather sofas. She felt stiff and achy, and her head felt far too heavy for her neck. But more than anything she resented his condescending attitude. It had single-handedly put her through hell for the past week.

Her chin came up and her spine straightened, misty hazel eyes bright with condemnation. "Then why ask me to come down if I can't part-take in any of the fun?"

"Because, I want you where I can see you—" he confessed darkly, his smouldering gaze pinned to the damp pink pout of her mouth. "—so you don't bail on tonight."

Those hard black eyes held hers for a moment longer, and she felt their impact with an ice-cold shiver that struck deeply into her, washing the colour right out of her face. A slow smile stretched the hard contours of his mouth.

"Do I have a choice?" she prompted with her heart in her throat and brought the mug to her lips.

Itachi dealt her a thunderous glance and her face went pink again. A face dominated by big brown eyes and that luscious mouth. The dress she wore wasn't anything that'd make a man do a double take but clinging to her body, it made somewhat of a dramatic effect.

"Somewhat," he answered her grimly but was—in reality—just reiterating his thoughts about her dress. Somehow vocalizing it gave him more conviction.

Not enough to fascinate or titillate, he reasoned impatiently, but his attention roamed back to her delicate features and lingered. A split second later he was hard as a rock, his blood drumming through the most sensitive part of his body as he imagined that succulent mouth pleasuring him.

Itachi stamped on that unwelcome thought and buried it deep.

It was dangerous, especially when he was still buzzing with aftershocks and the agony of sexual restraint. Her stubbornness and prudishness had both infuriated and set him on fire back in the shower. But all she had achieved was letting him see that she was vulnerable to him. Something that would work to his advantage.

He could quite happily have lifted her against the glass, spread those long slim thighs and satisfied them both, but he had always been distrustful of the new and enticing and preferred to hold back and stay in control. If he could stay in control, he was willing to admit that he wanted Tenten beyond just wanting a surrogate. In fact he wanted her a whole lot more than he had wanted a woman in a long time.

He tried to examine the possibilities but the how and the why couldn't hold his attention. He was uninvolved, she was a consenting adult who'd agreed to conceive his child and this was essentially a business arrangement. As long as he kept those realities in mind there was nothing more complex at play.

Sex was straightforward. Sex he could handle. He didn't need to think about it or question the authenticity of a basic human urge to mate. She was pretty and she excited him. And that kind of excitement was rare enough in his life to wipe out every other consideration and finer feeling and take precedence.

Sexual desire can wither and die as quickly as it had risen to life, he reminded himself. Even if it was mindless, desperate and an irresistible force clamouring to be assuaged that shook his body with need.

He wanted her, and he could have her. Why not indulge himself? He brooded. She was his, and would continue to be his until she bore him a son.

He sent her a winging look of frustration, not able to comprehend the mystery of her or the mystery of her allure.

What was it about her that ensnared him? While she seemed naively unaware of her own sexual power he was all too aware that he found everything about her, from that peachy mouth to the tightness of her dress over her full rounded breasts and the flare of its skirt ridiculously tempting.

She nervously licked her bottom lip, flickering her gaze to the variety of bottles, tall wineglasses with impossibly slender stems and decanters that were beautifully arranged on the massive, glass-topped coffee table before them. There were elegant looking silver buckets of ice, nursing wine never before seen on the shelves.

Uchiha Spirit's Research and Development Department had spent two years developing the company's new line of wines and Itachi was eager to put them out on the market. As the fire country's largest premium drink company, he had a reputation to uphold. Uchiha Spirits was the sanctioned distributor of a number of other premium brands from companies outside the fire country, but it thrives mainly from the production of its own brands.

_Massacre's_ exquisite taste and quality had copped many awards both locally and internationally. In light of its success and acknowledgement on the larger market, new products by Uchiha Spirits are always highly anticipated and in high demand.

There is to be an official launch party for its new "_Blood line"_ but that wasn't for another month. Some critics had argued that the name was little unorthodox but the idea was generally well received by the consumers.

Having sampled the wines beforehand, Itachi thought he would call up his colleagues to do the same and share their thoughts. As usual, whenever new products were to be launched he sought out representatives from the four departments to lend their opinions. Mark you, these four representatives were always the same, solely because he trusted their judgments and they were close friends of his.

Deidara was the head of Sales and Marketing, his natural charisma, charm and creativity made him suited for the position and so far he had not disappointed Itachi. He managed their brand well, product differentiation, innovation and introduction went smoothly with him in charge. The blue-eyed, blonde-haired man had a knack for taunting consumers into believing that their wants were necessities.

He could coax a dumb man into buying a microphone, which made advertising and promotion effective. Not only was he an efficient marketer but he was also good at market research—accessing the latest trends and forecasting potential sales which made Sasori, the Production manager's job much easier.

The redhead was no novice when it came to employing the appropriate types and levels of production to suit the varied demands for each product. At the age of eighteen he was already mass producing dolls and puppets for local gifts shops as well as making customized objects on a job scale for picky customers. Itachi respected his knowledge of how to add value. Quality assurance, efficiency and full capital utilization were just a few of the things Itachi can never question once Sasori's in charge.

However, Uchiha Spirits' success came down to its workforce's competency and how well they were managed. That was where Konan came in. She was the Head of the Human Resources Management Department. She's rather stern and very specific about what she's looking for in an employee, which meant that no one got the job unless they met every last requirement down to the T.

Itachi paused in thought to send her a look of acknowledgement. Realizing that she caught his attention, gone was the stolid and rather haughty-looking authoritarian. In her place was a young woman with an impish smile and sparkling eyes which were more beautiful than the most priceless of amber jewels. Her blue hair tumbled in loose tendrils across her shoulders and down her back. The two piece grey suit she wore came with a chic cropped jacket teams and a sleek, sheath dress for a posh pairing that can easily transition from desk to dinner.

Two things always accompanied Konan's attire, no matter what colours she wore. They were the large, light blue, paper flower in her hair and the piece of jewelery she wore for her labret piercing.

She was the epitome of brains and beauty. But Itachi was never one to mix their kind of business with pleasure, which was why he went out of the way to contract Tenten as his surrogate. Work situation aside, he respected his relationship with Konan too much to ask such a thing of her. It would only serve to complicate matters, he needed a woman who was easily disposable after the task was completed and she would not be.

They went too far back. Risking their friendship and losing such a fine employee was just not worth it. Even though she said she could've handled having his baby, without expecting to become a part of it's or Itachi's life. He wouldn't have it.

And he knew that had been a lie, especially from the scathing once-over she gave Tenten when the girl entered the room. The look was so cold it could have frozen hell over two hundred times.

To dampen the animosity he hadn't introduced her as anything but her name—Tenten. Though, having confided in Konan about the surrogacy Itachi was certain the blue-haired woman knew what purpose the brunette served. And she was not taking kindly to the notion either.

It made him a little aversive to the idea of telling the others. He didn't care what they thought of his choices but he didn't want them to look at Tenten in any unjust way. She was nothing like what their arrangement would make her out to be to outside eyes.

"What's with the fucking girl scout?" Hidan, the Chief Officer of Accounting and Finance asked. His pink eyes narrowed at Tenten and the Uchiha scowled at this.

Not only was Itachi dissatisfied with Hidan's lack of good manners but if it wasn't for Kakuzu, the white-haired man would drive the company into the ground with his elaborate spending tendencies and lack of proper record keeping abilities.

"That's not what this meeting is about," he told him dismissively and settled himself beside Tenten, the feel of her hip against his own brought on an explosive reaction.

To the others she would appear oblivious to it, but Itachi noted how her fingers tightened around the mug and how she discreetly tried to scoot away from him. He noticed the erratic pulsing of the vein on her neck too.

"Relax," he told her, blindly resting a hand against her knee.

She drew a startled breath and slapped his hand away. "Stop touching me and I will."

"Am I making you nervous?" he asked unapologetically. "That would mean our little exercise didn't accomplish much this morning?" he smirked.

Her tongue did a nervous flick around her dry lips, and for the life of her, she couldn't look him directly in the face. Her heart dropped in her stomach and she settled her empty coffee mug down just in time to hear Hidan and Konan's snide remarks.

"She looks far too fucking young to be drinking any of this shit," Hidan commented in a hushed tone. "But you know how these young girls are. My guess is she's here for a big dicks-count," he whispered and grinned at Konan. "Get it?"

The tense silence before Konan opened her mouth stretched Tenten's nerves, and her skin prickled beneath the woman's intent gaze. She looked directly at Tenten as she spoke; it chilled her to the bones. "Don't be ridiculous Hidan, that child can't handle Itachi, he'd destroy her," she sent her a mocking smile. "I would know."

Deidara abruptly got to his feet, rather enthusiastically at that. He took up a bottle with a gold label containing liquid so dark Tenten thought it was black. It was not until he held it up to the light that she saw into its deliciously inky depths.

"This is Amaterasu. Dark, rich and full-bodied, only begin to describe this wonderful blend of blackcurrants and black cherry. It has a very spicy undertone, with solid tannins and rich mellow oak—a combination that will send your taste buds into a state of euphoria—" his blue gaze kept darting between the seething Uchiha and his female co-worker.

Euphoria was right, Tenten deduced. After Itachi darkly instructed Konan to follow him into the dinning room, she tossed back a glass of Amaterasu in one driven gesture, ignoring both a sick fear and something a little like suspicion inside her.

No alcohol consumption before sex? Ha!

Konan may have fucked him, but Tenten just fucked his rule.

Preliminaries postponed, it was as easy as that.

Itachi - nil. Tenten - 1.

She couldn't shake the feeling however, that it was Konan who had won.

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**A/N: So obviously I scarred a couple readers with the last chapter and scared them away T.T *sobs* There's a reason this story is rated M however, there's no need to be rude, geez! Don't like my shit, don't read it, please stop killing (flaming) me. I already had a plate-sized hole blasted in my chest T.T And Fanfiction is already in its dying ember.**

**Well there you have it…like I promised, 5 to 7 days update. It isn't much but...bleh! I played a little with canon details for Itachi's company. You can pretty much guess the names of the other wines in the **_**"Blood Line"**_ **Not much ItaTen interaction, I'm sorry. He has guests over, he can't always be a brute xD**

**Please review to keep me motivated. Thanks for reading.**


	8. The Uchiha Curse

**Help Wanted**

**Chapter Eight – The Uchiha Curse**

**Dedicated to JigokuShoujosRevenge**

**Trigger Warning: Very Mild 'M' Content [Italics; flashback]**

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"**Just because something isn't a lie does not mean that it isn't deceptive. A liar knows that he is a liar, but one who speaks mere portions of truth in order to deceive is a craftsman of destruction."**

— **Criss Jami**

Tenten hurriedly looked away as Itachi's big shoulders gave a betraying little quiver when Konan touched him shortly before the two disappeared from view. For some unapparent reason, she was trembling inside—a stricken bag of nerves.

Hidan's chuckle followed the departing duo, "Those two should just fucking get it on already."

The suspicion she felt earlier prickled her spine, raising the fine, silken hairs on the back of her neck, drying her mouth, tightening tiny muscles around her lungs so that she found breathing at all an effort. In an attempt not to appear too disquieted by what Konan had confessed, she finished the last drop of her drink and poured herself another.

Was that a twinge of jealousy she just felt? Of course not, because that would just be ridiculous. People didn't get jealous in arrangements such as hers and Itachi's. There was no point. Why should she care what affinity the woman may or may not have shared with him?

She had only known the man for a week, and what she knew of him, she despised.

"That's if they haven't already," Deidara commented drily, shrugging his shoulders and reaching for another bottle from the ice bucket.

This one carried a bronze label with the word _Sharingan_ printed in chiller font above two, ominously sketched onyx eyes that vaguely reminded her of Itachi. She figured that it must've been the logo for _Bloodline_ because it graced the label of every bottle. There had been tears of blood in the eyes on Amaterasu however and rightfully so, Tenten thought, because after her first sip, its exquisite taste and texture had brought tears to her own eyes.

She was seconds away from taking a third sample when Sasori caught her wrist. Her brain struggled to recall when he'd materialized beside her.

"That's not water, little girl," he shook his red head and a frown ceased his brows above eyes quite similar to her own. "If you'd like to be able to remember your name by the end of the night, I'd suggest that you stopped drinking it as if it were such."

Though Tenten tried to hide it, her cheeks burned with embarrassment. "It's just wine," she argued feebly.

"This is Sharingan," Deidara told them, walking around and refilling their glasses with its brilliant red colour. "This wine has a slightly spicy nose with hints of balsawood as well as citrus notes. A lively fruitiness on the palate along with mellow tannins leaves a velvety finish in the mouth—"

"We're all going to taste the damn thing, save the fucking commentary for a football match," Hidan growled, easing back into his seat and downing the contents of his glass in one go. "There, all done and I haven't tasted a fucking thing," he slammed his glass down. "That shit is for toddlers, pour me something stronger."

Tenten found that she rather liked the Sharingan, swallowing the last of hers with slow deliberation.

"—As a young wine it exhibits simple red fruit flavors such as cherry, strawberry and raspberry. As it matures it takes on a surprising complexity, with aromas of chocolate, venison, figs, prunes, truffles, violets and even a touch of smokiness," Deidara continued, pausing for a moment to retrieve yet another bottle, except that it came with a silver label. "This is _Mangekyo Sharingan_, derived through experimenting with _Massacre's_ taste and tripling the dosage of alcohol present in Sharingan."

Hidan helped himself to the nearest bottle. "Now you're fucking talking!"

Tenten glanced at him, drinking it as if it were a particularly nasty medicine he needed to take.

"It's an irresistible wine, whose elegance draws you subliminally into its orbit," Deidara said as everyone simultaneously rose their glass to their lips. "Intense ruby-garnet in color, it is redolent of a profusion of aromas of coffee, cherries and sun dried fruits," he paused again, savouring the taste of it for himself.

Tenten swallowed a little of it, feeling its warmth hit her empty stomach. The bomb Itachi had dropped on her during breakfast had blasted her appetite and now she was starting to feel effect of not eating.

"Its high alcohol content makes it full and generous in the mouth and it overwhelms the palate with intense flavors, prolonging your pleasure with its characteristic slightly bitter finish." His voice seemed to grow more liquid—more sensual as he spoke of _Mangekyo_.

"Quit talking like that, you sound like you're about to fuck the bottle," the white-haired man derided tightly before smirking. "And I wouldn't be surprised if you're able to fit your dick inside the mouth of it. Possibly even with enough room left over to fit a finger," he chuckled.

Tenten snickered helplessly, holding out her empty glass to the blonde, not quite sure when she'd finished it.

Ignoring his colleague, Deidara woodenly poured her another glass, watching as she drank the whole glassful down in one swallow without so much as flinching.

"Easy there Girl Scout," Hidan warned throatily, nudging his head at Sasori who dispossessed her of the drink. "That's your last sip of the night, Itachi takes his women clear-headed," he teased her.

A soft brush coloured her cheek, but her eyes glittered amber out of annoyance. "I suppose you would know, being one of them yourself," she told him saucily, folding her arms.

Hidan seemed to pale and yet he huffed out a short laugh. "Cute."

"Susanoo is one of the two full-bodied Spirits featured in the Bloodline," Deidara informed them, pointing at a huge, broad bottle containing liquid of a pale yellow with hints of platinum. "Don't be fooled by the colour, one shot of this robust—"

"For the last time Deidara, cut the fucking sales girl act!" Hidan cut in abruptly. "You're beginning to sound like a scratched record."

"Is there any significance behind the specific colours of the labels on the wines?" Sasori asked casually.

"I'm glad you noticed Danna," Deidara smiled appreciatively, mentally sticking his tongue out at Hidan. At least someone acknowledged the amount of thought put into branding and packaging the new line. "They represent the strengths of the wine, gold being the strongest."

He nodded in understanding, "Susanoo is one of two Spirits you say?"

"Yes. Chidori is the second."

Hidan and Tenten gradually fell into the background as the two broke into a discussion about potential marketing strategies and production plans. Tenten caught bits of their conversation but given her lack of knowledge about the corporate world, nothing much resonated with her. She was just happy to hear about Itachi's company even if she learned nothing of the man by listening.

It was not until Sasori suggested that they branch out into the production of soft drink and lager that Hidan felt to comment. "There's a reason the company's called Uchiha Spirits and not fucking Pepsi."

"Why is that though?" Tenten asked interestingly; it was always something she had wondered about, ever since she found out about the murder of his parents and brother. "Does it have something to do with the death of his family?"

For a moment there was silence, it stretched like a rubber band pulled too taut.

Her eyes widened, filling with instantaneous alarm. Everyone was suddenly very tense.

A nerve jerked in Hidan's rigidly held jaw and he angled back his imperious ashen head. "What are you insinuating?"

Tenten moistened her lips, nervous now that she held all their attention. "I meant in a metaphorical sense," she added, a little thrown by their behaviour. "The use of Spirits could be a pun," she shrugged, her voice petering out into the brooding silence.

Some of the tension began to ease from their faces and Deidara laughed but it did nothing to assuage the cold, clammy sensation that crawled down Tenten's spine. "You like to over-think things don't you?"

"That could be a dangerous thing," Sasori croaked, his brown eyes gleaming with grim amusement. He met her gaze steadily, defying her to question them further. "Where are you from child—?"

"—how old are you Girl Scout—?"

"—what do you do for a living hun?"

As if a switch had been thrown, they started bombarding her with questions. She drew in a shivering, steadying breath. Every scrap of colour drained from her face. They were shifting the focus to her, Tenten realized sickly. "Is this an interrogation?"

"Pardon us for being curious about the woman fucking our boss," Hidan compressed his lips, a dark rise of blood emphasizing his cheekbones.

Tenten stilled, her eyes grew wide in open shock at the blunt revelation. "That's no business of yours and if you must know, I'm not," she told them awkwardly.

"Not yet," he countered with harsh conviction.

Her was stomach curdling—dazed by that almost unapologetic conclusion. She repossessed her half empty glass of _Mangekyo _and emptied it in one gulp, praying for deliverance, uneasily conscious of the knowing looks etching across their faces.

"Not ever," she defended indignantly.

"I noticed that you didn't come through the front door," Deidara's mouth twisted into the facsimile of a smile. "So you must've come from upstairs."

She clutched her empty glass like a drunkard amongst teetotalers, bitterly, painfully resenting the fact that they were very observant. She would have to be extra cautious with them around. If she gave them reasons to dig, they certainly would.

"I'm twenty-one. I'm from Konoha and I'm a contractor," she recited coolly. The contractor bit was a new addition, but since entering into her compact with Itachi, she thought the title was appropriate—as belittling as it was in reality.

Sasori gave her a curious look; in fact he looked slightly overawed by her sudden composure.

Hidan's mouth quirked up, unfazed by her sudden compliance. "What kind of contractor?" Glinting pink eyes absorbed Tenten's growing pallor with satisfaction.

She froze and then slowly, jerkily shook her head, which was beginning to pound unpleasantly. "One question per personnel," she held up a finger, and then rose to her feet to take a defiant shot of Susanoo.

The fizz that came with her first taste of the heady liquor was electric, charging through every cell in her body. Having had her fair share of hangovers, Tenten knew it would be in her best interest not to touch another glass. Her goal was to drink herself into a state of mild inebriation, not to the point where she'd reveal anything she wouldn't whilst sober.

The aim was to simply repulse Itachi and discourage any advances tonight.

"It's the Uchiha curse," Sasori was saying to Hidan.

"What is?" she asked, suddenly finding it very difficult to balance herself on the four and a half inches of heel she wore.

"Petite brunettes with big brown eyes," Deidara answered in an undertone that set up a chain reaction down her sensitive spine.

It was ridiculous that she felt comforted by the existence of such a myth.

"His younger brother was the same. Sasuke had a string of the prettiest girls pinning after him when he was alive," he said gently, a sad and reverential smile touching his lips. "But he wouldn't give any of them the time of the day. Not one. Not until Itachi took him along with us to Suna one summer and he met that girl."

Tenten tried to imagine what Sasuke might've looked like and envisioned a miniature version of Itachi. There weren't any family photos around the house for her confirm the image she conjured up in her head. But she was certain the young Uchiha must have been quite an eye-candy, especially from the way Deidara was describing him. Like he was some sort of chick magnet.

"It was the first time I ever saw the kid look anything other than supremely confident. She had him tongue-tied and eating out of the palm of her hands." He laughed at the memory.

"It could've just been the enormous rack she had on her," Hidan supplied drily.

"Sari was her name?" Deidara asked Sasori who nodded once. "Long, chestnut tresses. Big hazel eyes, a sunny smile and a curvaceous little body. Kind of like you—" Brilliant cerulean eyes held her levelly, his mouth twisted as he added, "—Just not nearly as feisty."

"Sasuke's was a mere case of puppy love. Itachi's older cousin was absolutely obsessed with that Nohara woman. What was her name?" Sasori dug through files of memory but came up blank, apparently so too did the others because they shrugged. "I heard he had to do five months in rehab after she died."

"Nohara?" Her strained voice shook and she compressed her lips to silence herself. That name rang a bell but for the love of her she couldn't figure which one it did. And then her heart took a frantic, convulsive gap against her breastbone when she finally realized. What were the odds?

* * *

_Tenten felt sick. She wanted to scream. She tried to. But every time she opened her mouth he covered it with his own. Her hands grappled against the intrusive hands—her strangled sobs mingling with his thick, excited groans. Alien sounds, smells and textures swamping her senses to hold her trapped in a terrifyingly black void of wicked helplessness._

_It was frightening. She didn't know where she was or how she got there. All she knew was that it was a dark room—pitch-black._

_The air was sweltering and filled with the laboured breathing of their uneven struggle. She felt as if she was suffocating. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think beyond that vile, thrusting tongue on her neck._

_She could feel her heart pounding in wild fear. It throbbed in her chest, her head—thundered in her ears. Her funeral attire was gone. She didn't know where or even how they had gone—but they were no longer covering her body._

_Zabuza Momochi was big, strong and repulsively naked. His greedy hands were touching everywhere. _

_She felt weak and dizzy, her head swimming as she tossed it from side to side in an effort to evade his awful mouth. It was certainly no help that she was still light-headed from drinking as much sake as she did. She had taken a huge knock from her brother's untimely passing. Haku was all she had left and his obsessive loyalty to the monster above her had taken him away from her. _

_Tenten managed only one word, "Please…"_

_He grasped a fistful of her hair, using it to clamp her twisting head to the ground. "Your brother was the only reason I kept you around. Now that he's gone, you only serve one purpose."_

_Her whimper of pain brought his smothering mouth to her face—searching for her mouth but she pressed her lips together._

_It was then that the real nightmare began._

_His free hand shifted to cover one madly palpitating breast, squeezing it before moving on. His palm slid over quivering flesh. Eager. Hungry. Searching fingers—probing, hurting, until on a sudden surge of sexual urgency, he thrust a knee between her thighs and wedged them wide apart._

_She didn't know from where but she found the ability to scream, arching her body away from him. _

_Then a door was opening, a burst of light flooding like acid through her tortured mind. And the scream came, thick and wretched—a cry from hell, filling the air around her._

_It all happened so suddenly, she couldn't quite wrap her mind around it._

_A gun exploded, the sound of it was deafening as it bounced off the wall of the scantly furnished room. The weight on top of her seemed to have doubled in the wake of the blow. The impact of it painted her and the white tiles below her in blood._

_She twisted her head in frozen horror to see the strange man she had caught watching—stalking her—earlier. He was making his way into the room—towards her. Involuntarily her gaze clashed with diamond-hard dark eyes. It was even worse than she had feared. That collision cost her dear. It was like being run over by a truck, thrown into the air with heart fearfully hammering and the breath wrenched from her body._

_He gave her the chills._

_Panic bit into her and she struggled beneath Zabuza's lifeless form. But her hands were trembling so much she doubted she would succeed in pushing him off her. And then suddenly the corpse was gruffly shoved aside and a hand was being outstretched towards her. _

_She stared up at the man, shock and horror threatening to convulse her churning stomach._

_The simmering tension in the atmosphere heightened, until she could hear the accelerated thump of her heart in her ears._

_He was studying her closely. She thought she glimpsed something in the depths of his charcoal eyes, something vulnerable, uncertain. "Rin?" There was a deep, hoarse note in his voice that made her heart twist. "Nohara Rin?"_

_Tenten blinked in confusion, too shaken to produce words._

_He abruptly pulled her to her feet and enfolded her in his arms, a tentative hand stroking the length of her hair. "You're safe," he cooed._

_She shuddered, alarm clamouring inside her—drumming inside her head, cold and frightening. Because somehow, in her traumatized state, she sensed the deception in his voice. If only she had acted on it earlier…_

* * *

"In fact, you hold a striking resemblance to her," Sasori pointed out cynically. "What did you say your name was?"

Her nerves balled her stomach into a tight knot. _**He**_had told her the same thing, she recalled, swiping at her face with trembling fingers. "Momochi Tenten," she told him stiffly, cringing at the surname she had no other choice than to claim as her own. But figured that if she told them what they thought they wanted to know then chances of further probing would be minimal. "It was the name given to us after we were adopted."

"Us? You have siblings?" Deidara asked with a wry grin, flexing his eyebrows.

"Had," she corrected him, her jangling emotions felt savaged. Drenching up the past always put her in a state of maudlin misery. "A brother."

A cruel, hysterical laugh escaped Hidan. "Believe me Girl Scout, that wouldn't have stopped Deidara."

"Fuck you old man," The blonde's striking features set with angry distaste. "The bottom-line is we know you're seeing Itachi, hun. There's no point in denying—,"

"—who you spread your legs for," Hidan finished with a smirk.

Blinking in confusion, Tenten had to dredge herself out of the strange spell she had fallen under for a few dismaying seconds. Involuntarily she shook her head. It was the alcohol, she told herself. She was getting worked up over a mere coincidence.

"Nothing is ever coincidental hun," Deidara told her as if he'd read her mind. "You're the carbon copy of Itachi's last three girlfriends."

With a stifled sound of raw impatience at the slowness of her response, she poured herself another glass. "That's good for him," she stammered jerkily, her sarcasm not entirely put on. "I don't get what's so special about chocolate eyes and brown hair."

"Neither do I, but for some reason, Uchiha men can't fucking resist it." Then Hidan added with amused assurance, "So there's really no need to feel threatened by Konan."

The silence spread for endless seconds that clawed cruelly at her nerves before Tenten blushed and averted her eyes. Intense mortification engulfed her. "I don't feel threatened by anyone," she informed him tautly, dropping it like a brick into a bottomless silence.

"You started drinking the exact moment she and Itachi disappeared together," Sasori gave her a wondering and decidedly amused appraisal.

"He told me I couldn't drink anything," she admitted stiffly, doggedly fighting her discomfiture. A bitter little laugh was dredged from her tight throat. "He left the room and I saw an opening," her words slurred slightly.

"Is that so?"

The sound of that voice halted her in her tracks. That dark, drawl cut into her like a razor. She shuddered and turned quickly around—only to stiffen on a fiercely indrawn breath as something icy cold and very wet landed against her chest.

Her drink.

"Shit Itachi!" she gasped out shrilly as the liquid drip down the honeyed slopes of her breasts. Ice-cold bubbles were fizzing against her heated skin, the chilled liquid soaking into the thin silk of her bodice.

The fabric darkened, then turned transparent before her very eyes, plastering itself so tightly to her breasts that anyone within a vicinity of ten feet would now know that she wasn't wearing a bra.

And to top that humiliating, exposure her nipples, always so annoyingly sensitive to quick changes in temperature, burst into tight, prominent buds, pushing against the wet fabric in sheer, affronted surprise.

"Serves you right," he scowled. "Come with me."

"You don't tell me what to do," Tenten whispered, shaking with a wild combination of apprehension and fury. Defensively she took a big step back and almost choked on an uplift of clamouring fear.

Her eyes widened, then darkened in dumb refusal. He read it, and his own eyes flashed a warning. Eyes like _**his**_, she realized quite out of context.

Her senses were in ferment, rushing in a panicked stampede through her body. She saw the slight resemblance then, praying to the heavens that she didn't have an Uchiha curse of her own.

* * *

**A/N: ****I've started dedicating chapters to my readers. I really appreciate your support, without it, this story would probably have remained on my hard drive forever. Thank you so much for giving ItaTen a shot. And don't worry, there are enough chapters to dedicate to everyone since this doesn't have too many readers**_**.**_** Don't worry Non-members, if you're consistent with the guest name that you use, I'll be able to identify you and dedicate chapters to you too :)**

**Anyways, I've kept my end of the deal by updating every 5 to 7 days soooo…pretty please Review :) Its always appreciated.**


	9. Reincarnation

**Help Wanted**

**Chapter Nine - Reincarnation**

**Dedicated to KaiKai PANTS**

* * *

"**Ghosts don't haunt us. That's not how it works. They're present among us because we won't let go of them."**

— **Sue Grafton**

"_Rin?" he rasped out thickly from the darkness. "Where are you going?"_

_Tenten went perfectly still. Her heart hammered beneath the hectic heave of her breasts, her teeth bit down hard on a trembling bottom lip, brown eyes wide and stinging with wretched tears, her voice locked inside her throat—unable to answer, not wanting to answer._

_All she knew was that she had to get the hell out of here. _

_There was a short pause when no one moved. The silence filled with terrible foreboding on both sides, and then Tenten heard the sound of movement, as though he was stretching across the bed to drag something towards him. She exploded into action again, bending down to search the floor for the knife she had hidden just before he had tucked her in bed and settled himself beside her._

_Her hair tumbled all over her face, getting in her way, irritating her and sending her temperature gauge shooting high as panic completely engulfed her. Her fingers trembled as they closed around the hilt of the weapon at the same time a hand came gently on to her shoulder and all hell broke loose inside her._

_Panic gripped her. _

_He was fully awake._

_Tenten rose up, turning on the balls of her bare feet, and blindly sliced at the dark bulk looming terrifyingly close. She stood stricken into stillness as the dark bulk on the bed gave a pained grunt and jerked violently in reaction._

_Then an awful silence settled over the room when nothing moved, nothing but the slow lowering of her hand where the knife with its lethal blade still hung between limp, lifeless fingers. And that weird sense of unreality swept over her once again, trapping her in the centre of her own crazy nightmare._

"_Have you lost your mind?" the violent hiss of words was preceded only fractionally but the full weight of his body landed against her own, sending them both tumbling to the floor with enough force to push the air right out of her lungs. _

_He was breathing like a marathon runner, heaving in deep, noisy gasps of air as he struggled not to completely crush her beneath his own weight._

"_Where did you get that?" he wrenched the cutlery from her hand and hurled it cross the room. Keeping a painful grip in her shoulders, he dragged himself to his feet, yanking her up with him until they both stood swaying in the nullifying fall-out from their mutual violence. "What were you planning on doing with it?" _

_Her head came up, drawn by the hoarse thickness of his voice—by the tremors she could feel shaking him. She couldn't speak, was too shocked by her own violence to think, so she just stood there, just staring at him, through the thick curtains of hair, her mind a total blank._

_He gave her another shake, his fingers biting into the tender flesh of her upper arms as he sent her unruly hair flying out around them so it clung to the clammy surface of his contorted face. A muttered curse had him dragging the fine long strands away, tugging the thick pelt back from her face with a cruel fist._

"_You were sneaking off to go see Kakashi again, weren't you?" he snarled when she remained rooted to the spot, silent and numb. Another shake brought her alive at last. _

"_For the last time, I don't know anyone by that name," she pled desperately. "Please stop hurting me."_

"_Hurt you?" he choked in utter incredulity. "I ought to beat the life out of you, you stupid, crazy, deceitful witch!"_

_He seemed stuck on what else to call her. His fingers were still biting harshly into her, his teeth, pure white and sharply etched in the consuming darkness, were displaying a fury so palpable she could almost taste it._

_Tenten threw back her head, defiance in every line of her trembling frame. Brown eyes blazed at thunderous black but she reassumed her stony silence. _

_He growled something deep inside his throat, the last threads of his control giving way as he dragged her roughly across the room and slammed her back against the door, ignoring her startled cry as he pressed a muscled arm across her throat, forcing her head back. _

"_I'll kill you myself if you ever leave me again," he told her, pushing her chin high and curving his hand tightly over one of her trembling shoulders. _

_She could feel his harsh breath against her face, warm and tormentingly flavoured with brandy, further stimulating fear._

_Then he reached out to touch a switch, and Tenten squeezed her eyes tight shut against the sudden searing crash of light to her retina. And with her heart thundering against her ribs, she stood, tensed and ready for what had to come next._

_It came. _

_The breath left her body on a stunned rush of air. Her eyes flicked open, timid hazel arrowing directly on to malicious charcoal. _

_Tenten was knocked to the ground. He reached for her throat and squeezed, sucking the breath from her lungs. She could feel the blackness encroaching._

"_Answer me Rin, where are you going?" The hard black eyes demanded an answer._

* * *

She was going to run, Itachi realized with a sudden tensing of his spine. The urge to flee was literally pulsing in every tautly held muscle she possessed, and abruptly he jerked himself into movement, making her hesitate, bringing her flustered gaze fluttering up to clash with his own.

He locked it with a sheer superiority of will and used his eyes to lock her to the spot while he step towards her, as graceful as any supremely proficient cat mesmerizing its prey before it pounced.

"Disobedience doesn't warrant bragging rights Miss Momochi," he told her quietly, removing the empty glass from her hands, blindly setting it aside. She looked as if she had seened a ghost, he noted. His eyes strained as he watched the way she trembled; the way she struggled to draw steady breaths.

It was when she began sucking on the insides of her mouth that Itachi's brow furrowed. He only knew one other person who had a habit of doing that. And for a second it was like having that person reincarnated before his very eyes with that one gesture. Stifling the enervating memory, Itachi swallowed hard. His heart stopped beating for a moment and his porcelain-like skin chilled at the semblance of his younger brother that he saw in her expression.

It penetrated something—something he was not prepared to consider—something that made him want to flick her forehead and tell her she was behaving silly.

It was an uncanny.

The atmosphere was thick with sizzling undertones. It was not Tenten who collided with his stunning dark eyes; it was Sasuke. And unexpectedly the most giant surge of protectiveness surged through Itachi. The brown eyes had morphed so easily into onyx before his very own that his hands gripped together, white-knuckled, at the sudden pain of it—at the strength it took to suppress it—to stave the illusion.

Dismayed, he shook his head wearily, so agonized by the irrational likeness he saw between the two that it actually hurt like a physical pain.

Tenten stumbled, having to tilt her head back to keeping looking into his face. When he called her Miss Momochi she felt her heart shrivel a little inside her. It casted a slur on what transpired between them in the shower earlier. Her breasts heaved on a small, tight intake of air as a muscle deep down inside her abdomen writhed in recollection. Predictably she stiffened that disturbed muscle in rejection of her response.

Itachi saw and accurately read every single expression that flickered across her vulnerable face. The emotions still burning, the desire still clutching, the inevitable rejection and perhaps most heart wrenching of all, a pain still hurting.

He reacted to it from a place of deep shock and something that felt suspiciously like guilt.

Blood roared to his brain at what he had let happened—how far off base he'd gone. How far off base he'd let her take him, as if he'd had no control over the situation in the shower. He hadn't bargained on this, that he'd want her with such an irrational hunger that precluded anything else he'd ever felt in his life. His behaviour was shaming, shocking and all-consuming.

Perhaps his own exercise had done more of a number on him than Tenten and now he was desperately searching for some equilibrium, something familiar to cling on to.

His instinct was to lash out. He denied the response she was evoking with every fiber of his being and drawled easily. "I thought you would have learned your lesson."

Tenten blinked stupidly for a few seconds. She simply could not believe that he had just said that. Rage boiled upwards and she started to shake uncontrollably. The comment shouldn't have come as a surprise however; Itachi was the prince of bluntness.

But neither of them moved. For a long, timeless moment they simply stood there gazing at each other. Her evocative scent teased his nostrils. It was clean and had the unmistakable tang of musky rose.

He had to take a deep mental breath the instant a surge of testosterone-charged heat took a leap down his front to gather like a flaming knife in his groin. The provocative witch, he thought, letting his eyes shutter out the telling gleam he felt spark to life in them.

He wished he could adopt the same physical indifference to her that she dealt out to him whilst in the company of others. But he could not. He could not pretend to be cool and collected and indifferent to all of this excruciating attraction. He could not stop himself from responding—inwardly, at least—to that pure, feline magnetism that poured out of her in such hot, sinful waves. It made him feel somewhat breathless and snarled up by self-awareness he neither understood, nor could control.

The Uchiha grimaced at the dark sense of dissatisfaction that began to niggle at his nerves. Why in the world was it so easy for the damn girl to get beneath that protective layer of skin he wore?

It was ridiculous.

He blinked then, slowly lowering and unfurling those impossibly long lashes as if he was using them to wipe away the answering buzz of his body and put in their place a cool implacability.

"You did that on purpose," she snapped at him, scorn leaping to that magnetically attractive mouth.

"Shall I add a bra to the list of things we need to get you tomorrow?" his jaw line flexed, making her wretchedly aware that he was seeing exactly what she was seeing—and from a better vantage point than anyone else, including herself. "Because evidently, you don't own one," the rich deep tones of his voice made her insides quiver.

Tenten went white; her whole stance stone-still for the few stunning seconds it took her to thoroughly absorb the fact that he was actually teasing her.

In a delayed act of modesty she snapped her arms across her breasts at the same time her head came up and received the second stunning shock in as many seconds. She could see it now: his striking resemblance to **him**. It disturbed her. She'd noticed it before, but of course she had had no frame of reference for it.

Now she was filled with such strange, unsettling feelings—and she just stared at him blankly, her lovely mouth parted while her body quivered badly enough for anyone to see that she was suffering from a severe state of shock.

Could they be? What if they were? What did that mean for her?

Her nerve-ends reached snapping point. A tight, prickling feeling began to scramble its way up from her tingling toes to her hairline. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't swallow, and, worse than all of that, she felt like weeping.

"Rin Nohara?" she enquired hoarsely, a look of desperation etching across her face. She needed to know, the suspicion was killing her. "Does it ring a bell?"

Itachi studied her with cool condemnation, broad shoulders taut with savage tension beneath the fine cloth of his suit.

"Should it?" he demanded raggedly, his disconcertion over her emotional behaviour unconcealed. His dark, deep drawl was so constrained it screamed his tension.

"I don't know," Tenten mumbled, wishing a big hole would open up and swallow her. "Maybe…"

She had the faintest impression that the name had indeed struck something. But Itachi's silence hung like a giant weight ready to fall on her head if she pressed the issue further.

His eyes burned with annoyance. The pale flesh stretched tautly across his cheeks like alabaster. He stood unmoving, like a marble statue, staring at her with those disturbingly, distinctive empty, dark eyes.

The arrogant nose that ran in a straight sweep from his forehead to the nose tip, the strong jaw, the broad and high-boned cheekbones all resembled **him**. Itachi was practically an improved—in the physical sense—younger version of the man. But clearly his mentality and ideals were the exact replicas.

Slowly his hand came towards her with the intention of taking her by the arm. But she saw the tendon running along his jaw-line tighten perceptibly as he did so, and was dismayed to realize that Itachi was looking so tense because he expected her to flinch away from his touch in front of his friends.

She didn't flinch but felt the usual jolt of heat run along her arm in direct warning to her brain that someone had invaded her personal space.

Her brown eyes held his, calm and steady, and after a few tauter, telling moments, the tension eased out of his jaw-line and was replaced with a twist to his beautiful mouth that grimly mocked her small show of restraint, as if it offended him that she felt she had to protect his pride in front of his friends

"I knew you would disobey my orders," he gave a soft laugh deep in his throat, sardonically smirking in amusement at her. "You're very predictable."

Tenten held up an index finger and noticed absently that it trembled. But the words came, hot and hard and crucifying pungent, "Take your hands off me…" her voice trailed away, her mind flying off in another direction as she bit into her bottom lip on a fresh wave of light-headedness. Then, she spluttered, "Put them on Konan if you're looking someone to frisk tonight. I'm certain she wouldn't mind."

Suddenly he wasn't grinning, his eyes darkening into something that had her body stiffening in rejection, even as he arched her up against him and turned to lead her out of the sitting room. "Our contract is exclusive," he reminded her brusquely. "I can only frisk you."

Her feverish colour ebbed to leave her pale. She stared back at him with incredulous eyes.

Itachi snatched in a starkly audible breath, lashes lowering on his smouldering gaze. "And jealousy isn't a very good look on you."

Tenten found herself subsiding like a pricked balloon but found some strength under the laser-like gaze. "Me jealous? That would be the day," she retorted drily.

He shifted her beneath the crook of his powerful arm, and fitted her easily beneath his shoulder. Her hand pressed against the front of his white dress shirt where she was made forcefully aware of the accelerated pounding of his heart beneath the sticky dampness where her wetness had transferred itself to him.

"Hidan's staring at you," he clipped with a grimace. "We need to get you changed," was all he said as he tightened his grip on her then turned to steer her out into the silenced hall, arrogantly ignoring every set of curious eyes that followed them.

"I can change myself," Tenten whispered self-consciously. She quelled the urge to stiffen up warily, a fresh frisson of alarm stinging along her spine. The last place she wanted to be was alone with him.

As soon as they were out in the hall she tried to jerk out of his grasp in rising panic. "Don't touch me!" she snapped coldly.

Itachi drew in a harsh breath as he teetered on the edge of losing his usual self-control. All Uchiha man had a temper—red-hot temper that burned so deeply it became icy and steely—but that cold control often gave the impression that they were without emotion at all.

Tenten's lack of regard for his rules and their schedule was in serious danger of evoking that extreme reaction.

And Itachi would guarantee that she wouldn't like it if it did.

He looked angry, Tenten realized. Not hot, masculine angry but frozen, arctic angry. "By sabotaging tonight, you're only setting yourself back," he claimed raspingly. "But even I don't have all the time in the world to wait for an heir."

"I'm afraid of you," she confided wretchedly.

"I know." He loosened his grip on her, moving his hands along her spine to gently cup her nape beneath the fine silk fall of her hair. "It's silly to fear the inevitable. We have deadlines to meet."

"You'll hurt me," she swallowed tensely, still not accustomed to having him talk so casually about something so intimate.

His thumbs drew lazy caressing circles on the soft skin at her jaw line, his expression brooding as he looked down at her pale, anxious face. Then he let her go, sighing softly as he did so. "Did I hurt you this morning?" His voice was loaded with a sardonic whimsy that made her shiver.

Tenten flushed, her lips quivering a little. She could feel the heat creeping into her body as the memory moved across and into her. She was aware of the way her breasts had swelled and of the heat moving between her thighs. As if to indicate that her body had already capitulated.

It was the kind of surrender that only deepened her distrust of him, if the fury snapping in her eyes and the look of self-disgust on her face were anything to go by.

No one else could make her lose all her usually ice-cold self-possession as completely as he could. And he had been doing it since the first time she ever set eyes on him. A few short minutes of his undivided company, and he had always been able to turn her into a shivering, quivering wreck of a useless creature.

Sex.

That single telling word hit her with a hard, cruel honesty. The difference between Itachi and every other man she had ever met was the fact that he was the only one who could stir her up sexually.

And that was why she was standing here, a shivering, quivering wreck. Because in stirring her up sexually he also stirred up all the phobias that sent her into this kind of panic. Fear was the main thing; a stark, staring fear that if she ever gave in to the sex then her life would be over. Because he would see her mark then, wouldn't he? Know what she was and despise her for it.

No. Her heart was in her mouth. Her stomach plummeted. Such a scenario would be awful. She closed her eyes, gritted her teeth and clenched her hands into two tight fists at her sides as an old clamoring reaction trapped her within a world of mindless dismay.

Itachi noticed, who wouldn't have noticed when she was standing there quivering with her teeth biting hard into her tense bottom lip?

"Did I?" he insisted huskily.

"No," she whispered, trying desperately hard to get a hold on herself. "But that's—that's not the point. You are significantly larger than your finger."

He laughed. It was a dry, brittle sound that in no way conveyed true amusement.

Upon realizing her slip of the tongue, his name came out in a near croak. Her lips shook as a heat of embarrassment lick over her with painful precision. "The bottom-line is, tonight is off. I broke the rule so you don't get to fuck me," she cut in quickly, hopefully hiding her inner discomfort.

To her shame all it did was further humiliate her.

Itachi stared grimly at her for a moment, studying the set contours of her mouth, the angry heat in her cheeks, and the determined tilt of her small chin. Then something flickered across his face, the merest hint of pain or was it irritation? Whatever, he stopped suddenly, the new look on his face was pure irony which seemed, oddly, to be aimed entirely at himself.

Then he said, quite flatly, "You broke the rule, that's precisely why I should—" he paused seemingly for dramatic effect before he added, "—fuck you," and watched, without any feeling whatsoever, all the colour drain from her face. "After all, the rules spoke against sex, not the aforementioned. And like I had pointed out Miss Momochi," he told her scathingly, "There is a difference."

He had to be bluffing, Tenten was thinking hectically. He wasn't that rotten, surely?

* * *

**A/N: Okay, I said five to seven days updates and I kept my word. I'm sorry if nothing much happened in this chapter. While editing this chapter it got deleted and I had to start over from scratch, hence why it sucks—I was in a bad mood. I promise to make it up to you. I just had to keep up with my scheduled update.**

**I deleted a total of six anonymous flames :o SIX! Wow. Don't like, don't read, it'll save you (flamers) the trouble of having to swear at me and this... I quote _"immoral"_ story. Anyways, ****I think after the 10****th**** chapter the plot speeds up. I feel like the story is going half a mile a chapter and I freaking hate it. Review and I'll love you forever :)**


	10. Coming To Terms

**Help Wanted**

**Chapter Ten – Coming to Terms**

**Dedicated to SilentMidnight2**

* * *

**"To conquer frustration, one must remain intensely focused on the outcome, not the obstacles."**

—**T.F. Hodge**

A full body shiver took over Tenten. She was so nervous that she wanted to puke. How was she supposed to concentrate on dinner after Itachi's brazened utterance? To make matters worse he was staring at her from across the table like he was going to pounce at any moment. She looked up in helpless agitation.

For several fraught moments, his eyes searched hers, and the tension emanating from him held her captive. Every nerve in her body zinged as though hit by an electric charge. She felt like a prey but it was surprisingly, equally as delicious a feeling as it was threatening. The acknowledgment did nothing to calm her, in fact it almost choked her.

Crossing her knife and fork, Tenten shoved her empty plate away. The silver of it glinted in the glow of the dimmed chandelier above. Her glass of water clinked against the table as she set it aside, drowning out the sound of her steadying breath.

The main course had comprised of tomato salad along with potato and cheese croquette served with steak so tender it melted on her tongue. She had eaten with unbridle pleasure for it was, without a doubt, the best meal she had ever had in her entire life. Too bad it was in danger of coming back up, the brunette thought wearily.

The dark, penetrating gaze that collided with her own as she raised her head from the plate had balled her stomach into a tight knot—limiting its capacity.

She hated him, Tenten decided numbly. Hated him with a passion. With as much passion, if not more, with which she had only hours ago writhe against his fingers. Any softer feelings she might have had towards him after learning about his family's death had completely dissipated in the face of his intractability concerning their rigid sex schedules.

Couldn't he not see how terrified she was of the idea of sleeping with him? Because beneath that pretty face and well sculptured body he was just another monster, waiting to devour her very last bit of innocence.

Tenten eyed the tiny glass of wine Deidara had poured himself and a surge of rebellion rose within her. Perhaps she wasn't drunk enough to completely turn Itachi off, she reasoned. A sudden surge of devilry prompted her to reach for it and she gulped at it thirstily. In return the Uchiha shot her a look of intense irritation at such blatant display of insubordination.

She suddenly felt giggly, and when she closed her eyes the world around her seemed to revolve. She rarely touched alcohol, and never in such quantity that it made her unsure of whether she was mildly tipsy or guilty of having seriously overdone it. In addition, instead of discovering a new strain of confidence, she felt nervous, abstracted and dizzy. Especially with the memory of Itachi's last comments before they rejoined his friends, still ringing in her head.

* * *

"_What gave you the impression that dressing like a nun would please me?" he queried, in that dangerously soft tone. He noted her mutinous expression and his mouth curled into a hard smile. "Or have you deliberately changed into your most unattractive outfit to flout me?"_

_His guess had not been too far from the truth, and Tenten blushed. _

_In her opinion, wearing black was the equivalent of going to a funeral and could make anyone feel subdued and swallowed up—somber. She had sadistically hoped the colour would remind him of his family's burial and function as some sort of sexual repellant. Judging from how insanely murderous the blaze in his black eyes was—how his mouth flattened out in displeasure; it was doing a damn good job._

_Yet, she felt a spew of indignation at his description of her as unattractive. It was true her faithful black skirt was years old and unfashionably long. Her black silk-organza blouse with its high neck, and a row of tiny pearl buttons running down the front could in no way be called sexy. But she didn't think that she looked like a complete frump. Itachi however, clearly held a different opinion._

_She gave him a humourless grin, "I thought you would've preferred that I didn't flaunt myself in front of your friends," she drawled mockingly, and was rewarded by a flash of fiery anger that coloured his cheeks and made his eyes sparkle accusingly. "Hidan does have a wandering eye, but I don't mind, I think he's kind of cute—" she told him breathlessly, eyes wide with apprehension when he moved stealthily towards her._

_Like the stalking predator that he was._

"_You like to push your luck with me, don't you?" he questioned, and took two steps that brought him to stand dangerously close to her._

_Her legs were in danger of buckling beneath her, she discovered, and she quickly put a hand between herself and his solid chest. The panicky palpitations she could feel in her own brought a deep blush to her cheeks. "I'm—you—this," she was gabbling like an idiot, Tenten recognized disgustedly. "I was merely joking," she finally managed to string a whole sentence together._

"_Contrary to what you think Miss Momochi," he said, his gaze steadily holding hers as he reached out to smooth her hair back over her shoulders. "Even if your clothes repulse me, they do not prevent you from responding to me." __His voice was soft, serious, tapping at the truth. "Lips may lie, bodies don't."_

* * *

Itachi gave an impatient shake of his head at the recollection of her taunting and set his coffee mug down. Something unfurled inside him. He had never considered himself a possessive man, but now that he'd decided that she would be the mother of his heir, he discovered he felt very possessive where she was concerned. Such a remark about his colleague was unacceptable.

He knew he had behaved like a complete bastard by reminding her of her weakness in the shower, but that interlude, pleasuring her, was the only evidence he had that Tenten was keeping something from him—something that made her deny even her own response to him. A response she would dearly have liked to pretend had never happened, if that insurgent glitter in her eyes was anything to go by.

It happened nonetheless. He had felt it. Felt her fiery heat, her dampness, her legs parting as she completely opened herself to him. She had been on fire with need. Utterly powerless as he made his claim on her—as he stroked her to a sobbing release that caught her and carried her over the edge of an abyss. Then that sobbing release seemed to have turned to genuine distress as if some reality hit had her like a tidal wave. It was a little off-putting.

Still, Itachi struggled to accept what he had done. He hadn't meant for things to go quite as far as they had. Had meant only to demonstrate to Tenten how futile it was for her to try and avoid sleeping with him when her body sang every seductive note he sent it. Instead of just doing that, he had gotten carried away with her arousal and that of his own—unable to resist touching and caressing her.

His mouth twisted derisively as he looked across at her flushed face and feverish eyes. Those dark brown eyes easily conveyed the depth of her physical attraction to him. An attraction that was ironically more lethal to him than her. Itachi's gaze fixated caressingly on the full pout of her mouth. The need to be inside a woman as her body exploded and convulsed in release had never quite been so great before.

It had been far too long, he asserted, trying to excuse his behaviour. He hated himself for his reaction to her, for the urgent tide of desire that swept through his body that weakened and unmanned him.

Though, having been pursued—and having allowed himself to be captured for short periods of time—by some of the most beautiful women in the world, Itachi found his instantaneous response to Tenten as something of a novelty. Although, he knew from his jaded experience—felt comforted by the knowledge—that the novelty wouldn't last any longer than it took to entice her into his bed.

He was eager for that moment—the moment when he could flush her out of his system. He was however, not at all sure of the wisdom in taking her tonight. But he was also aware that his caution stood little chance of winning out when his body throbbed with a need to know her better.

An urgent need.

A need that outweighed his fear of hurting her once all of his pent-up sexual frustration was unleashed.

If he hadn't taken controlled breaths to fight down the clamouring of his body, he would've lost it with her earlier. The ache in his unfulfilled arousal still throbbed painfully.

While she ate, she made no attempt to talk to him—didn't even look at him, or anywhere else. Illogically a flicker of annoyance went through him. He was so totally blanked by her it made his mouth tighten. He reached for his mug again, taking another contemplative mouthful as his eyes rested on her.

For a moment he found himself wondering whether, by some remote chance, the girl had any hidden depths to her. When he looked back at how expertly she had gone about forging her affiliation with the agency, it didn't seem extremely unlikely. Was accepting his unconventional job offer a final act of desperation?

The ringing of Hidan's mobile phone broke through the veils of stillness in the room. It was the kind of silence that had gobbled up the occasional clink of metal against glass as they ate and the light drumming of Konan's fingers against the table.

_I love bad bitches, that's my fucking problem. And yeah I like to fuck, I got a fucking problem._

The loud tune pierced through the air, like a sword attacking the silence. It sliced looks of reproach across the faces around the table. Except for Tenten's, Itachi mused disapprovingly. The damn girl was swept up in a laughing fit.

He welcomed the swift and white-hot anger that churned inside him. But to his disgust another, unbidden emotion stirred within him and he couldn't bring himself to tell Hidan to shut the phone off. Feminine laughter sounded too vibrant and fresh bouncing off the walls of his house.

Konan's expression was as impassive as ever, but Itachi grimly noted the slight twitching of her eyebrows. An indication that she would like to fasten her hands around Hidan's neck and squeeze the life from him. "Turn that garbage off," she sternly instructed.

The culprit's brow furrowed before he regarded Tenten in amusement. He laughed softly, indulgently. "I take it, you like that song, Girl Scout?"

She snickered uncontrollably, sipping the last of Deidara's drink. The blonde didn't seem to mind; in fact, the sultry gleam in his blue eyes sent something alien and sick surging through Itachi.

"I drank from that glass already—" Deidara pointed out and watched in fascination as twin spots of colour flared on her pale cheeks. "—so technically you just made out with me," he chuckled.

Itachi frowned, puzzled by the look of genuine confusion in her eyes. "But that would mean that I've cheated on Itachi," she hiccupped and chortled at herself.

The frown deepened over a savage glower. The Uchiha certainly didn't like that idea but whether it was jealousy or contempt for either of their assumptions, he wasn't quite sure. His dark gaze swept over her with a chilling intensity. "You've had enough to drink," his tone was softly warning—dangerously so.

"What I've had is enough of you—" she told him abruptly, her mouth set stubbornly. "—and your fucking problem," she borrowed a line from Hidan's ringtone.

An awkward silence hovered in the air.

Obviously the alcohol had settled in, Itachi brooded. If how much her words slurred was anything to go by, another drink could leave her paralytically drunk. He realized then, that there was a motive behind her unruliness. Tenten clearly knew that a male as fastidious as he was with women would not take her to bed in the state that she was working herself into.

He gave an abrupt inclination of his head. His mouth was tight; sensing the meaning beneath her casual ranting. A meaning Konan clearly understood.

She stared aghast at Tenten and then transferred those startled amber eyes to Itachi. "You were being serious?"

Deidara blinked in confusion.

"Yes," Itachi replied calmly—confidently, totally unfazed by her earlier warnings about contracting a complete stranger to bear his children. She gave him quite an earful over the issue in the hallway, especially after learning that he intended to impregnate Tenten by being intimate with her.

She had been thoroughly appalled, choosing to slam him with questions regarding maladies and the sort. Itachi was a little put off that she—of all people—had reservations about his judgment. He knew himself to be a thorough person, she did too. Whether Tenten's features matched his requirements or not, she wouldn't have been considered for the job had her medical report not been squeaky clean.

To have questioned such a thing was preposterous on Konan's part, especially when taking into consideration the fact that she was the one to have introduced him to the agency and assured him that the girls there were healthy. After having a long and hard discussion about the matter, they had both agreed that the agency was his next best bet if he didn't wish to complicate their business relationship by starting a personal one.

Itachi was ruthless in keeping business and pleasure scrupulously separate. Such self-control could be irksome, but his rule was inflexible and absolute—it was simpler and safer that way.

The existence of a child between them would not be something either of them could easily disregard. He thought they had found common ground on that simple reality, which was why he couldn't account for the woman's bitterness towards Tenten. It was her advice that had initially led him to invite the brunette into his life. And now apparently, her presence was frustrating them both—however different in nature their frustrations were.

Hidan looked a little bit more than amused, his pink eyes glittering with suppressed laughter, a cynical twist to those sculptured lips. "I can't tell whether Girl Scout is saying Itachi has a fucking problem, or is simply a fucking problem."

Deidara blinked again.

Konan moistened dry lips and probably should have folded then afterwards to prevent the outburst that followed. "You've already slept with her?"

Then sudden seriousness in her eyes, that tinge of confusion, of dismay seemed to have inflated the bubbling accusation.

Tenten tittered, singing like an obnoxious, little brat. "I think someone is jealous."

Itachi gazed at her in silence until she felt every cell begin to crackle and eventually grew hush. Then he turned to Konan and was surprised to see a splash of reluctant colour tingeing her cheeks. She stilled completely. Then slowly, very slowly, she lowered her wineglass to the table. Her gaze had not moved an iota from Tenten's face. Her eyes were hard as steel.

For one long, measureless moment she held her gaze immobile. Then, abruptly cutting across whatever Deidara had been saying, she said, "I know what purpose you serve child, and I can assure you that I don't envy it in the least."

The fury was naked in her voice, icing through Itachi.

Annoyance filled him. And something more than annoyance. Something worse. He could feel the adrenaline leap in his body and tried to crush it down. Not because it fed his anger—he didn't care about his anger—but because it fed a quite different emotion. One that was deadly to him. Lethal. One he could not allow himself to feel.

Protectiveness—possessiveness.

A need to defend his—his mate?

"Drop it Konan," He straightened his spine and dismissed it. A nerve pulsed in his tightly clenched jaw. "I said I'd tell them when I'm ready," he warned between gritted teeth.

Sasori looked up from his plate, a scowl working its way onto his charming visage. "Tell us what?" he cut in hardly.

"Tenten is Itachi's surrogate," she informed them frustratedly.

The silence that followed her announcement seemed to hum in their eardrums. Three pairs of eyes landed on the tipsy brunette; cerulean, magenta and hazel—widening in shock, crinkling with indecent surprise and narrowing into slits, respectively.

Sasori was studying her, intently—as if his impression of her had finally shifted into place with Konan's confession.

Deidara gaped. "You mean she's carrying Itachi's baby?"

"Not yet!" Tenten chirped and Itachi knew it was the liquor that made her sound so cheery. "I've got it!" she suddennly piped, counting something off on her fingers and looking rather enthusiastic about it. "Eleven!"

Deidara choked on his saliva, "Eleven kids? What are you doing, making a soccer team?"

"No silly," she snickered. "We're naming our baby Eleven," she stated wryly.

Yes, Itachi decided. She was definitely drunk.

Konan arched a brow at him and he shrugged. There was not a chance in heaven or hell that he would name his child Eleven. But for the moment he was willing to entertain the thought for the sake of not letting her lose the downright adorable expression on her face.

"Aren't we Ita—?" she hiccuped again and jutted out her bottom lip. "Tenten and Eleven," her brown eyes sparkling with glee at the endless possibilities. "Or even Twenty! Since ten and ten makes twenty!"

His smirk was helpless. Silly girl.

"Well it certainly is creative," he told the her, not wanting to dampen her excitement.

Hidan vented a rather grim laugh. "Let me get this straight, you're getting paid to fuck Itachi and have his child?" he dealt Tenten a rampantly amused appraisal. She nodded hesitantly, unsure why he found it so funny. Then he threw his hands up in the air. "Why do females always get the fun jobs?"

Itachi cringed, Hidan really ought to think before he spoke.

"You really think so?" Tenten asked, with some difficulty squashing the incautious giggle trying to break free of her taut throat. Then it came, loud and without restraint, "Why don't you try fucking Itachi and making a couple ass-babies if you think it's so easy!"

To her everlasting mystification Hidan released a deep, bass guffaw. "Real cute," he drawled sarcastically then he turned to his boss. And with a completely different tone he declared, "I like her. She's a keeper."

Itachi conceded that he did as well, which was precisely why she wasn't.

* * *

**A/N: Geez guys, I didn't even realize that there hadn't been an update to this on Tuesday. Hence, why I've posted this interlude chapter to make up for it (even though it didn't!) I apologize, I lose track of things easily. Especially when my interest wavers. Things start to kick into gear next chapter (which was originally chapter 10) but is still under construction. **

**I am still going to be keeping up with my schedule updates, I just forgot this time around. I'm sorry, I hope you didn't mind me posting this 'go-between' chapter. I just felt bad about not keeping my word.**

**Btw Hidan's ringtone was 'Fucking Problem' by Asap Rocky and Drake. I heard it by accident the other day and died with laughter just imagining Hidan singing it xD Its not my favourite genre but LOL!**

**Thanks for Reading. Please review to keep me inspired, I am in dire need of some motivation! My drive is running on an almost flat line on the EKG.**


	11. The Mark That Binds Us

**Help Wanted**

**Chapter Eleven - The Mark That Binds Us**

**Rated H for Hidan**

**Dedicated to cathyscloud9**

* * *

"**We've got a bond in common, you and I. We are both alone in the world."**

— **Daphne du Maurier**

An antique tea service was laid out on the table after dinner ended. A gold slaver held syrupy cakes, dangos and figs. A laden plate sat before Itachi, untouched. He was feeling too bitter to indulge in sweets.

Coal-black eyes blazed as his temper escalated. But hard-won composure came to his rescue. Collecting himself, he shrugged and met Hidan's cherry gaze. "Shut up and stop encouraging this kind of conversation," he instructed indignantly, white with anger.

"Ah, come on," Hidan pretended to whine, the smile that curled his lips was cruelly mocking. "Fifty days of Uchiha Itachi would make an excellent parody series to—"

"You heard the man," Konan cut in tightly, slashing knife through his trialing voice. Her face was as devoid of emotion as a doll's. "I've had enough of this nonsense."

Hidan lapsed into silence.

"I'm beginning to think that you have a problem with me," Tenten stated forthrightly, setting down her knife and fork.

Itachi was amazed to discover that she had cleared her plate. She hadn't actually stopped chatting since they all got seated. And he couldn't say that he liked the kind of discussions Hidan was forcing her into. He kept asking why males were never lucky enough to land arrangements where females paid guys to impregnate them. Sasori tried explaining the concept of sperm banks to him, but he lashed out saying it wasn't the same if he had to jerk off in a test-tube.

He then proceeded to tell Tenten about the Kama Sutra, saying she ought to get a copy to _'spice up things'_ between herself and Itachi. Oblivious to the fact that Hidan had proposed she read a book about sex positions she turned to Itachi with big puppy dog eyes, begging him to get her a copy.

It had been enough to make him cringe.

Konan's amber eyes seemed to go silvery pale like frost—full of challenge, her fragile bone structure tautly outlined below her fair skin. But she compressed her lips and kept quiet, choosing to refrain from retorting.

Flushed and bright-eyed, with her hair tumbling about her face, Tenten popped a dango into her mouth and wiped her fingers on a napkin. "Did I steal your job?" she jeered.

"That is enough," Itachi warned, unamused. "Maybe it's time you went to bed," he suggested. There was a cool, unforgiving darkness in his measuring gaze.

She pouted and lifted an almost languid hand to tuck away a strand of chestnut hair back behind her ear. The heightened colour in her cheeks seemed deliberate, especially with her eyes dead bolting spitefully on the only other female present. "And are you coming with me Ita—" she batted her feathery lashes, "—chi?" she drew out his name huskily.

Her fingers were cool on his hot skin. Tingles of electricity flew across his hand from where she touched him. Then a rather shrill laugh was wrenched from her.

He met her mocking gaze head-on and wished his glare could fell the girl on the spot. But she remained unfazed, lifting her chin in defiance.

Konan's expression was guarded. "What were you saying about internet marketing?" she asked Sasori, trying to focus her attention on anything but the infuriating girl.

A low-pitched buzz of conversation broke between the two while Deidara and Hidan busied themselves with introducing Tenten to the wonders of social media. They had taken quite a liking to her and Itachi didn't like it one bit. He didn't want them getting used to the idea of seeing her around every time they dropped by. Her stay was only a temporary one.

"You should follow me on Ninjagram," the white-haired man was saying, scrolling down on his phone to show Tenten images he had recently uploaded.

"But I don't have an account," she slurred, wide-eyed and pink with embarrassment.

"You don't?" Deidara stared at her in surprise, taking out his own mobile. "Everyone's on Ninjagram, even Itachi," he informed her, as if it were any consolation. "I'm signing you up."

Her protest washed over the Uchiha, he was not surprised she fed the blonde a ton of bogus information when he requested her age, date of birth and the likes. Tenten was awfully meticulous about what she allowed people to know about her. It only served to heighten his curiosity. How could she lie so blatantly and yet look so innocent? She must have had a lot of practice, Itachi found himself thinking.

"There you go, all you need now is a password," Deidara dealt her a slashing smile when he was finished and handed her the phone.

She gazed at the device as if she had never held one before, "I'm not good at this sort of thing, any suggestions?" she asked softly—almost shyly.

"My dick," Hidan gave out in a harsh bark of laughter.

Itachi's face darkened like thunder.

Tenten's voice was unnaturally high-pitched when she burst out, "It says, _sorry it isn't long enough_." She frowned at the device and tried retyping the suggested password but it prompted the same response.

The silence that ensued rubbed Itachi's nerves even rawer than they already were. The room went static; the atmosphere thickened and became suffocating.

It took a while for the import of what she had said to hit home and when it did, Tenten was sent off again into another giggling fit. "Not long enough! That's priceless!"

Hidan looked mildly fazed, his smug grin turned down in a frown. "That was so funny I forgot to laugh," he told her dryly.

A humourless laugh was wrenched from Konan's soft pink mouth. "You certainly know how to pick them Itachi," she commented sardonically.

"She's not usually like this," he found himself explaining and gave Tenten a razor-sharp glance that brought colour to rise in her cheeks.

"Damn it Itachi, how do I get it to stop doing that cock-slap thing?" she growled frustratedly at the phone, tapping furiously away at the screen.

There was another long awkward pause; Konan was staring intently at Itachi this time. His eyes seemed to simmer like hot coals as they settled on Tenten. She was never touching another bottle of liquor as long as she resided in his house.

Deidara gaped, "What hun?"

The flustered girl placed her hand to chest and laughed, "I meant caps lock, my bad. Typo."

Konan was tightlipped and straight faced, "People can't make typos in verbal speech, child."

"Well—well, my brain functions as its own autocorrect sometimes," she argued shakily, because her brain was almost too befuddled to produce a better excuse. "If it makes sense," she added, sounding uncertain herself.

"It doesn't," she was bluntly informed.

Hidan blinked in confusion and dealt Tenten a wondering appraisal. "And why would cockslap be a word in your mental dicktionary?" he teased and then turned to Itachi. "You're a lot kinkier than you look Uchiha."

He flushed uncomfortably.

"Please refrain from using dicktionary, dickscount, dickscovery and dickcision?" Sasori brooded irritably.

"They've all gotten old and repetitive," Deidara supplied in agreement.

"You think so? That's such a big dicksappointment." Hidan tried with a grin and fell silent, seemingly lost in his thoughts, but after a moment he gave another mirthless laugh. "I think I've just dickscovered a homonym."

"How so?" Konan knew she would regret asking.

"Girl Scout has a big dicks—appointment with Itachi."

The sound of that soft, mocking laughter—mocking reminder—filled Tenten with mortification. Then suddenly she reared upright in one driven movement, and in the same instant her stomach gave a violent lurch of nauseous response that made her skin break out in perspiration.

Itachi sprang upright as well. He straightened just in time to see her sway. Her clear complexion had turned the colour of putty.

"I think I'm going to throw up," she muttered urgently from behind the hand she had clamped betrayingly to her mouth.

Moments later Tenten fell awkwardly to her knees on the tiles that floored her bathroom and was horribly sick—sicker than she had ever been in her life. She was appalled by the exhibition she was making of herself, and in between the retches she gasped horror-stricken apologies.

"I can't say that some satisfaction hasn't been derived from seeing you like this," Itachi declared icily from the doorway.

"You're horrible," tears rolled down Tenten's face as she choked and spluttered in the misery of disgrace.

"You haven't seen horrible yet," he fielded without remorse, and the door snapped shut.

She was bone-white at having those particular words thrown at her.

Everything stopped. Every faculty she possessed stopped. Except one.

Memory.

Burning, gruesome, vicious memory.

The first time she was vocal about **his **contemptible treatment of her, she had called **him** horrible and spat in his face.

Tenten could still remember the thin line of saliva that trickled down his cheek. He had dabbed it with a nearby hand towel, gazing at her in shocking disbelief. His face had darkened like the skies before a storm. The black of his orbs seemed to have consumed every last bit of the white of his eyes.

"You haven't seen horrible yet," he had growled, grabbing her and throwing to the floor.

Her head slammed against the cold, hard tile, she tasted blood in her mouth and before she could get back on her feet, he drew back his foot and slammed it into her stomach.

She could only gasp, not in shock because her body had grown accustomed to the pain. He kicked her again, and again.

Then he slapped her so hard that blackness curled in from the outside of her vision. The blackness receded. Tiny sparks flashed. He slapped her again—his features contorted by a bottomless rage.

A kick to her already bruised ribs stole her breath. Another made her whole body clench in protest. Another and a scream of pain tore from her throat. Her whole existence revolved around waiting for the next kick and the next explosion of pain.

But it didn't come—not immediately.

Later that night he bounded her to the kitchen chair with thin, heated copper wires. They seared past layers of flesh, might have even touched veins. It was like being pierced by an elastic blade that was wrapped around her body. It wretched a caterwauling sound from her throat as the skin broke and thin lines of red seeped to the surface. It dripped on the ground like an abandoned ink pen with ink cascading across the tiled floor.

She remembered the marrow-freezing moment he removed the red hot iron from the scorching fireplace.

The symbol at the end of its length glowed scarlet.

Five inches long, half an inch thick and burning the skin from her hip bone.

For a second she could hear the sizzling sound of her flesh—like a piece of meat dropped in hot oil—it was like a knife slicing open her guts. Emotion lashed through her, whipping up from deep inside—from a place she had yet to bury. A cold, clammy sensation crawled down her spine.

"I've seen horrible," Tenten whispered thinly.

She had to hang onto the vanity unit to stay upright while she washed and freshened up as best she could. Although she had been sick, she still felt extremely unsteady on her feet. Her head ached, her mouth was dry as a bone and her stomach felt sensitive.

OoOoOoOo

Tenten came into the room quietly, but he could still see how much of an effort it was for her just to put one foot in front of the other. His lean, breathtakingly handsome face hard as granite, he surveyed her with derision.

With half of her make-up washed off she was wan, and her smile was long gone. She no longer looked anything like a grown woman. She was so tiny, so delicate in build, with a ridiculously small waist and the fine bones of a bird. He shut off that dangerous train of sympathy-grabbing appreciation and flattened his expressive mouth into a stern line.

Well she could consider her mission accomplished, Itachi thought grimly. Disgust swept through him and he ruthlessly banished the memory the image of her puking her guts out had stirred up. It was to no avail, memory slanted through his head unbidden—but vivid. His chest contracted painfully. The memory of the last time he had seen someone sick to their stomach—the last he was sick to his stomach—was still alive, writhing like a pit of snakes in his belly.

His mind slammed into action, exerting every gram of self‐discipline.

I will control this. It will not control me.

The mantra gritted through his head, repeating as his fingers closed into fist by his sides. It was vital, essential, to keep control. Because if he failed—

The snakes writhed inside him again.

_The starless sky was damnation-black and brooding. Even the clouds seemed gloomy. The silver of the strange jeep parked outside the Uchiha Mansion glimmered cruelly under the eerie moon. Its phantom flare sent ribbons of chrysalis-silver light spilling onto Itachi's own dark coloured vehicle._

_Wrenching open the door, he reeled out. __A blast of cold air hits on his face like the blade of a shredding knife.__ He shivered, as though, ice had replaced his spine. The frigid night air enveloped his entire body. The multiple layer of clothing he wore could not provide enough protection against the deathly cold. _

_He broke out in a cold sweat of horror at the sight of the massive, unhinged oakwood door. It was propped up against the railing as if someone with brute strength had yanked it of its hinges and left it there for safekeeping. _

_Itachi's legs almost buckled beneath him. __Panic and anxiety churned a sickening mix in his stomach. His mind was a complete blank; he could not think__—simply couldn't allow himself to. He could only act._

_Light from inside poured out into the darkness casting a ghoulish glow on the red spots that smeared the stone walkway leading up to the house. __The promise of death hung over the scene. It was one of head-clasping horror. _

_On the ground laid metallic bullet shells, shining like diamonds, with edges sharp as spears. __The dewy grass flickered like silver flames as a blood-curdling howl rent the air. __Being a member of the police force, a fully loaded weapon was always within Itachi's reach. He quickly grasped onto it and aimed it at the opened house as he stealthily made his way towards it. He stopped just short of entering and hid behind the wall near the opening._

_His teeth chattered and his spine tingled with apprehension._

_Still he had never been more aware and cautious, cowering at the clinging sound of bullet casings pierced through his ears. The smell of flesh together with the dust and gunpowder almost made him sick.__ The taste of fear was acrid and vile on his tongue. _

_His heart thundered, pounding against his chest like a mace. In all his unease, he knocked one of his mother's clay pots off the porch. Its smashing demise drew the sound of heavy boots stomping towards the exit._

_Itachi steeled himself. His__ breath was coming out fast and rapid; every cell of his being filling with horror.__ The footsteps were brought to a halt just outside the bare arch way. The left portion of the man's face—who had appeared on the foyer—was blistered and smeared with blood from a burn Itachi was certain a hot frying pan had inflicted on him._

_His thoughts immediately ran on his mother and rage like he'd never known gave him the strength of a hundred men. He roared and launched himself at the man, who was too busy staring into the yard to notice Itachi perched beside him._

_The two met with a clash of fists—Itachi did not want to engage in fire, least it alerted the other intruders—he fought like a man possessed. He could taste the other man's blood, wanted to bathe in it right after he ripped the bastard's heart from his chest._

_But the man also fought like a man who knew he was marked for death. Out of nowhere he produced a blade, t__he swishes and hisses of the knife slashing through the air made the fight seem more perilous._

_Itachi was forced to stumble back with the impending threat of being dissected. Before he knew it, a boot was being thrust into his midsection, knocking him back. The man followed, pressing his momentary advantage by launching a series of blows that had the Uchiha retreating into the house._

_His breath caught in his throat as he tried not to retch at the sight he came across. He wanted to look away,__ needed__to tear his eyes away and focus on his fight but he could not.__ His hearts pounded against his rib cages and his neck hairs felt like pins with the terror of it all. It was butchery. _

_Lying in a pool of blood in the centre of the room was Uchiha Mikoto along with one of the assailants. He had a bullet hole planted in the centre of his forehead__ along with a few wooden splinters embedded in his battered jaws. An indication that he had probably engaged the Uchiha Household's head in battle. Berry-red blood squirted from the wound, tainting the white wood of the coat rack that was apparently used to knock him around._

_But all Itachi could see over and over in his head was his dear mother staggering to her knees before pitching forward to the ground. __The effluvium of death was all around him. The house had been baptised in blood and the bitter, mordant perfume of promised corpses emanated from it._

_A sound much like that of a wounded animal bellowed from his throat. Who would order an attack on his family? The Uchihas were one of the oldest, noblest and most respected families in the entire Fire Country._

_The momentary slip up of concentration found Itachi being knocked back and the knife swung at him again. He went to his knees and jerked his head back so it cut through empty air just an inch from his throat. He staggered to his feet after deflecting yet another blow and prepared to launch himself directly at his enemy. _

_Bones cracked and crunched as Itachi disarmed the enemy by twisting his wrist. _

_The man groaned and yowled as he was completely impaled on the length of his own weapon. The point sliced through his front, bathed in crimson. He looked down in complete befuddlement, his eyes glassy as death crept over him. _

_A wellspring of blood sluiced into the air. It tasted coppery._

_As Itachi's attacker's knees buckled and he slipped to the ground, Mikoto raised weakly to her feet._

"_Itachi," she choked, her face was as pale as death. When she lifted her gaze from the man's lifeless body to Itachi, her eyes were cloudy with pain and as dull and glassy as the man had looked when he drew his last breath._

_All the young Uchiha could see was the blood that soaked her tunic. "Mom" he cried._

_He dropped the knife and ran forward, catching her as she pitched sideways. He gathered her close to his chest and gently lowered her to her side, mindful of the dagger deep within her flesh._

_His black eyes widened at the gruesome sight._

"_Sasuke—" she whispered as she stared up at him, her eyes so dim that it was like all the life had leeched right out of them. The usual wash of gold, so warm and vibrant, was a dull shade of black-grey, like trees that had the life burnt out of them. "—they have Sasuke."_

_A spasm of pain crossed her face and she gave a soft sigh as she closed her eyes._

_He touched her cheek, her mouth, her eyes, and even her ears. "Mom, you can't die. Do you hear me? Don't you dare die on me," he said brokenly. "Please, you can't leave me."_

_He lifted her against his chest and rocked back and forth, grief so thick in his heart that he couldn't breathe._

"_Don't go," he said fiercely. _

_He touched her cheek again, willing her to open her eyes, and as if she answered his unspoken demand, her eyelids fluttered and opened, but it was evident it cost her dearly._

_She smiled faintly. "It's okay Itachi, go find Sasuke."_

"_I won't leave you," he said in a harsh tone that was rife with grief and desperation. "Who did this? Mom, what is going on?"_

_His mother lurched over and grabbed the pale skin of Itachi's forearm. He bit his lip as she leaned in closely toward him, breathing her hot breath on the damp hair at the base of his neck. She smelled of strawberries and death. For a minute the only sound was Mikoto's labored breathing and the mournful creak of the wooden stairs as something tumbled down it._

_When Itachi got up to see what it was, a __knot swelled in his throat and tears burned his eyes, crowding in until his vision went wet and blurry. _

"_Dad!" he gasped, rushing to gather him up in his arms._

_Fugaku managed to utter one word before he faded to the blackness. "Sasuke."_

"_No, no, no! This can't be happening." The tears came, soaking his face, leaving the taste of metal and salt in his mouth. "Who would do this?" he fisted a handful of his father's shirt pulling him close to his chest as if he thought the sheer force of his will could bring him back._

_Then he saw it, on the back of Fugaku's white dress shirt—a fan-like symbol seemingly drawn from the __balefire-red blood that splattered __out the side of his head. Itachi drew away and immediately began to retch, the sick spasm in his stomach was never ending. His gut convulsed and heaved until nothing but bitter bile was left. It was the first time he had ever thrown up and he despised himself for it—for not being strong enough to stomach his last precious moments with his parents._

_He stumbled across the symbol again, later on the wall above of Sasuke's bloody bed. His room had been completely thrashed—dismantled, like the intruders had been searching for something. Oddly enough, after a thorough search, it appeared that the younger Uchiha was the only thing missing from the room._

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**A/N: This is one of those chapters where I actually need know if you're all getting what I'm trying to put out there. For some reason I just don't think things are shifting into gear quite like it's suppose to. Its frustrating me, and a frustrated princesshyuuga01 threatens the likelihood of future updates. So do let me know what you're thinking. Speculate even! **

**That's as emotional as I can write Itachi, if he didn't float your boat then I apologize. Please forgive the delayed update as well, my interest is wavering. **

**Please review to keep this story going!**


	12. Same As You

**Help Wanted**

**Chapter Twelve – Same As You**

**Dedicated to crazee (Guest)**

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"**No one can take this from you. No, can't carry this for you. But you can stand if you want to, or fall if you want to, I do feel same as you."**

— **The Fray, Same as You**

Beyond the drawn drapes at Tenten's window, bright streaks of red, pink, and orange were devouring the dark blue and purple of the twilight sky. The sun lurked behind mountains―masking the full extent of its radiance in a suit of green foliage―instead, choosing to send prying golden rays to assess accurately, when dawn should pounce.

Then it attacked, in a burst of light and warmth as morning claimed the skies and everything below. The retreating stillness was a battle cry in its self as the hum of moving traffic gradually overcame the static world. It was a battle between night and day―the victor already declared by time.

Tenten's first thought upon awakening was that she seemed to be suffering from the worst hangover in her entire life. The throbbing in her head was such that it felt like a dozen or more tiny people were wielding hammers against her skull. It was worse than any blow she had ever sustained to the head, she mused. With a pained groan, she attempted to ease herself from the pillow. The hammers pounded even more violently.

"It's about time you got up—"

A lump lodged itself in her throat and she went as stiff as a statue, certain she paled enough to camouflage herself against the white sheets. She would be able to pick out that deep, drugging voice from the loudest and noisiest of uproars—possibly even without the ability to hear. It's timbre vibrated against her skin, seeped through her pores and chilled her to the bones.

She felt his presence—could sense it anywhere. The air seemed to thicken whenever he was near. After all, what else could account for the way she had to fight for her every breath?

"—we've got a busy day scheduled."

Tenten didn't like the sound of that.

Itachi should not—absolutely should not—be in her bedroom with her. Shock. Panic. Fear ran through her. And—far more powerful than any of those—loathing. Black, virulent loathing. That despicable man! Who knew what kind of punishment he planned to exact on her for her antics last night.

Everything was still a blur but she was certain she had behaved badly.

She kept her eyes firmly closed. "You're a figment of my imagination; you're not really here," the mantra did nothing to stave the unrhythmic thud of her heart as it forced the lump even further up her throat with its every beat.

"I'm very much here Tenten," the voice confirmed wryly.

He really ought to stop saying her name in that husky timbre of his, she brooded to herself. It washed over her in violent, provocative little waves that could―would eventually come to drown her qualms about sleeping with him.

Her lids rose abruptly even as she turned her head sharply in the direction of his voice, determinedly ignoring the painful hammering inside her head. Her eyes widened accusingly as her gaze alighted on Itachi where he sat on a chair beside her bed. He was bare-chested, with only his pajama trousers on. It made him look, she realized, with yet a jangle to her stretched nerves, disturbingly different from his usual power-suited self.

It took her completely by surprise, shocking her into being unable to do anything but simply stare. And just as she remembered from their encounter in the shower, his shoulders were wide and muscled, his stomach equally taut. Disgustingly beautiful. With a hard, masculine beauty that she could never, ever have imagined.

"What the fuck are you doing in here?" she demanded furiously. More to the point, had she suffered any nightmares in his presence? Those dark, relentless dreams where she relived the horror of her ordeal often led to shrilling outbursts at nights.

Though as of late, a different kind of monster lurked in her subconsciousness. The kind that kept her up in the middle of the last few nights, bathed in cold sweat, whimpering and aching for something she knew would further destroy her.

The cold, probing cruel eyes, the slight sneer on his pale mouth, the beautiful remorseless voice were all bitterly ingrained in her mind. She had dreamt about it. For a moment, finding him inside her room, she had felt she was falling back into those hellishly sensual nightmares, and perspiration had broken out along her spine.

That monster's brow arched over scolding black eyes. His black hair fell enticing over his shoulders now that it was unconfined, just as Tenten had imagined it would.

Something moved in his eyes. Then he spoke, "I don't appreciate being spoken to like that." He went on, in a completely different tone of voice, "You look far too innocent to have such a foul vocabulary."

"I look too innocent to swear but not too innocent for you to have your way with me?" she retorted, having to fight the rather pathetic urge to blush because he had said something nice to her. Or at least from her interpretation of it.

"I didn't sign those papers. You did," he reminded her tersely. "So quit acting like a sacrificial virgin." The words drawled from him.

"Isn't that what I am?" She stared at him, her eyes wide in puzzled enquiry.

"I didn't say I never intended to sleep with you," he said coolly. "It's just that I'll do it in my own good time. There's no rush."

She looked at him through her lashes, ludicrously irritated by his composure. Although she was terrified of the moment when he would demand that she honour their contract, she was piqued that he should be so casual about it.

"And the question should be—what are you doing in my room?" Itachi asked curtly.

Tenten's frown deepened before shifting her gaze about the room. What she saw was a room vaguely reminiscent of her own. The bedchamber, for instance, looked more like a luxurious, streamlined boutique hotel styled open space—with a sleeping area at one end that contained a bed, and a living space at the other furnished with sofas, tables and a desk. A glass wall ran the full length but it looked inward onto what Tenten imagined must be an enclosed garden.

None of her clothes were draped over the chair by the dressing table, as she had left them before she went down to dinner. Her hairbrush set, perfumes and cosmetics were missing from it as well, in their stead were file folders neatly stacked one side for ease of access and shaving things.

For one split second she was in a state of mindless panic, her eyes widening, her body gripped by terror. If she slept in Itachi's room—she must've—they must've—she gasped, trying to assess whether anything about her body felt out of place. Much to her relief, there was only the throbbing in her head. If she was aching elsewhere then it had more to do with lack of contact rather than anything else.

Tenten sharpened and steadied her voice when her gaze returned to Itachi's face. "What the fu—what am I doing in your room?" she corrected herself just in time.

Those infuriating lips twisted into a rueful grimace, "Don't you know?"

His voice taunted her lightly and she stared back at him, feeling she would like to slap the knowing look from his face. Something in his look made her flush hotly and lifted the blankets to confirm the message he seemed to be subliminally conveying.

Her slender body shuddered with shock—she was wearing only her panties and bra beneath the sheet.

Slowly she let it drop back over her nudity, her mouth a thin, disapproving line, a nerve pulsing in her jaw as she glared up at Itachi. "Where are my clothes?" Softly, her tone testing out his reaction, she asked, "Did you touch me?"

She was astonished by the look of fury which appeared on his face. The lines of his jaw tightened. The charcoal eyes were like bits of black ice as he stared down at her. He closed his eyes only briefly before grating, "Had I touched you, I guarantee you would've remembered."

"You are one sick son-of-a—"

"—what do you take me for?" he broke off impatiently as he frowned at her. "Do you honestly think I would've taken you to bed in the condition that you were in last night?"

She glanced down, her lashes fluttering against the pale gold of her skin. "I wouldn't put it past you."

"Hypothetically speaking—something happened. What would you have done, report me?" he asked mockingly. "I hardly see how helping you to do your job is an offence, Miss Momochi."

She gaped, her own face flushed with anger. "I'm not some fucking sex slave!" she exclaimed furiously.

He straightened himself, his eyes on her mouth. Dark red washed up his face. "Of course not. Slaves don't get paid." Then he clamped his jaws down in annoyance, until his cheeks were drained of all the colour that rose to it, "What did I just say about swearing?"

Tenten was very still, looking up at his dark features through the fine curtain of her lashes. Folding her hands in her lap, she said defiantly, "I'll stop swearing when you start showing me some respect. If I am to bear your abominable seed I at least require that much."

He chuckled at her choice of words. "I can't recall ever being disrespectful to you. Blunt, yes. But never disrespectful."

She elevated an accusingly brow and turned up her nose. "Your lack of regard for my privacy is a blatant show of disrespect. First, in the shower, now this," she rose her hand in a helpless gesture. "I'm beginning to think you get a kick out of trifling with me Mr. Uchiha."

He waved her off dismissively and shoved his hands in his pockets, then rose to his feet. He stood there, staring at her insolently. "I just can't understand you," he confided frustratedly.

Tenten chewed on her lower lip, unsure of what to do or say next. She quivered, trying to read the look in the narrowed black eyes. "What?" she asked in genuine puzzlement.

"You do not remember coming to my room last night? Did not remember undressing?" The words were incredulous.

She shook her head, her throat burning. Undressing—undressing for him? She almost choked on her saliva.

He looked her up and down, his mouth twisting derisively. "Did not remember that, once you had helped yourself into my bed, you snuggled against my back and clung to me?" he paused for a moment, as if mentally reliving her intrusion. And judging from the scowl on his face, he hadn't taken too kindly to it either. "Do you not remember begging me not to leave you alone and then being consumed by the most horrendous nightmares, during which you'd sworn, screamed, fought and railed like a woman possessed?"

Tenten's earlier fear returned, and she looked at him doubtfully. She had gone deathly pale. "I did no such thing," she scoffed. "Obviously you took me to your room, stripped me of my clothing and sat there waiting to watch me wake up in panic." She felt her body go stiff in apprehension. "You know that being alone with you like this would alarm the hell out of me—you're punishing me."

Itachi chuckled lightly but his voice sharpened insultingly. "There are far better ways to punish you. I can think of a couple of them right off the top of my head."

"I can just bet," she said in a low tone.

It was obvious from her initial comments that Tenten had believed herself to be in the privacy of her own room earlier, when she had moved so stealthily about the room, discarding her clothes before dropping them unorthodoxly on the floor.

He had time to ponder, as he sat helplessly in the chair beside the bed and witnessed Tenten's nightmares, whether or not she had meant to come to his room, and if so for what purpose. Although the fact that she was naked would seem all too ready to indicate that purpose to outside eyes.

But her surprise on awakening, at finding herself in his room rather than her own, and her anger and impatience with that fact, made a complete nonsense of his initial conclusion.

Disappointingly so? Perhaps, Itachi allowed self-derisively. Even if he would have fended off her drunken advances, it would still have been entertaining—flattering, even—to be the object of the intimate interest of a woman who had so adamantly tried to convince him that she wasn't in the least bit attracted to him. But her mistaking his room for her own had obviously been genuine.

Itachi concluded too, that it hadn't been her intention to have let him witness her disturbed dreams. They were a weakness of hers—a weakness she didn't wish to reveal to anyone. Having seen it, he felt perplexed himself, especially with the memory of how fiercely she had protested when he ushered her out of his bed last night.

He had woken up to the feel of something warm pressing into his back—that, and muffled sobbing. It brought the Uchiha awake with a start that had him sitting up, before he had even opened his eyes.

He had said her name and for once, sounded like the disconcerted one. Then, more gently he asked what she was doing in his room. Itachi realized then, that it made little sense to enquire why she had abandoned her bed to seek refuge in his own, clearly Tenten had been in another world—hell of her own.

Her eyes had been wild and wet. She was pale and shivering. Her heart hammered so hard he swore he could've heard it drumming in his ear drums. It had taken a considerable amount of effort to peel her hands away from the iron hold it had around his waist, as well. The fragility of her appearance certainly hadn't indicated such brute strength.

Somewhere inside his head there was a strange buzzing sound, and Tenten's voice, low and oddly constricted, had been begging him not to leave her alone—said the bad man was coming to get her. He figured the alcohol must've still been messing around with her head but the child-like voice in which she'd asked him to stay would haunt him forever.

"_Don't leave me!" she cried out in such heart-rending agony that he seemed to catch it in his chest like a blow. "Please don't go!"_

_Escape. He had to escape—to fight the memories before they all came crashing down on him. He had begged his mother and father not the leave him too._

"_Let me go!" he demanded in pained bemusement. This was the second time her antics had forced him down memory lane.__ He was white with terrible recollection, his onyx eyes fierce and savage against his skin.__ "Go to your room!"_

_He had to force a pillow between them in order to free himself of her clutches. Tenten hugged it to her chest—asked it to protect her. And then as if everything inside had gone haywire, her mouth opened wide and she let loose an ear-piercing scream._

_Then suddenly there it was, the big black hole he had spent so many years carefully skirting around. Only this time it claimed him. He tumbled headlong into it, falling for what seemed like forever, until eventually there was nothing—nothing but a strange feeling of utter weightlessness and the blackness, that terrible, all-enveloping, mind numbing blackness._

_The climb back to reality was an arduous one. His fingers scrambled to catch hold of something, anything, to stop him falling. _

_Her voice came as a blessing—leaning over the rim of the hole, reaching down for him._

"_Please don't hit me!" Tenten whimpered fretfully. "I'm sorry!"_

_It was such a relief—such a wonderful relief to snap out of it, that he gathered her in his arms. "It's okay Tenten, calm down. It's Itachi—" he choked out and felt his equilibrium beginning to fall back into place. He needed it to do so in order to get her through her own nightmare. "—I'd never hurt you."_

_But she kicked and clawed at him, yelled at him to stop—to not touch her._

"_Don't touch me!" she bit out, angrily knocking the hand away. "Leave me alone!"_

_He said nothing, his face white and drawn—baffled by her sudden change in reaction. He decided however, that he'd not leave—as she had begged him not to—but he wouldn't touch her either. _

"It was almost as if you'd been running from something," Itachi told her grimly. It certainly had seemed that way to him from the way the door was left wide opened, like she had bolted inside.

Tenten was so dumbfounded she could only stare at him. "How long have I been here?"

Her query betrayed what her eyes had failed to reveal and Itachi felt a renewed surge of pity, a sense of compassion which was immediately replaced by confusion over the emotions that seemed to hit him as he stared at her now.

He wasn't sure what it was—it might merely be pity, but it left him with only the desire to comfort her—to reassure her fervently that she was safe and he wouldn't let anyone hurt her.

"All night."

She made the mistake of attempting to sit up. A mistake that brought on an agonizing pain which ensued her to place her hands on either side of her head in the hope of holding it in place should it attempt to topple from her neck.

What exactly were Itachi and his colleagues putting in the new line of wines?

She found the cause of the pain when her fingers encountered a large bump on the side of her head, just behind her ear. A lump that was tender and sore to the touch, as if—

She looked across at Itachi accusingly and swallowed, her throat moving convulsively, her eyes suddenly enormous brown pools of contrition in the pallor of her face. "What happened? Did I attack you?" she asked with a self-conscious grimace.

Itachi winced. "Does that often happen?"

Her small pink tongue moved nervously across the fullness of her lips, moistening them. Enticingly so. "And if so, in defending yourself did you give me this bruise?" she asked thickly, expertly avoiding the question. She was well aware that she fought in her sleep which was why she made certain nothing of importance was kept on her bed.

Angry colour darkened his cheeks. His expression was fierce. The savage question had degraded and insulted him in one sitting. "I would never lay a hand on you!"

"Then what happened?" She flinched as her fingers gently probed the tenderness of her scalp.

Itachi's lips thinned as he repressed a smirk. "You bumped your head on the bed post."

She looked at him with dislike and cold exhaustion. "Why does that amuse you?"

A cruel, sardonic smile twisted his mouth. "Karma."

A brief but thick silence throbbed.

"I suppose you think I came here with the intention of being bedded," Tenten said dryly, turning up her nose in repulsion, colour brightening her cheeks.

"I've entertained the thought," he admitted savagely.

She sat still, looking back at him helplessly, blindly releasing the sheet. It fell like liquid white from her chest to rest in a rumpled heap at her waist.

Itachi's senses were fully awake now.

All of them.

They had lain dormant straight throughout the night while he watched over her and later struggled adjust himself into a comfortable position enough to sleep in the chair. He knew from his own experience that whilst coming out of a nightmare, it was far more comforting to wake up in the presence of someone else than complete darkness. That was why he hadn't slept in one of the guestrooms last night.

Without panic and concern clouding his senses now—alone with her in his bedroom, he found Tenten's allure overpowering; her brow was like alabaster, her hazel eyes mistily enigmatic, her lips full and poutingly tempting. The lace of her bra flowed revealingly over pert breasts.

Desire stirred inappropriately in recognition of all those womanly charms, and Itachi's breath arrested in his throat as his thighs hardened even more inappropriately.

Tenten tensed warily as she sensed the sudden change in the quality of the silence that had fallen between them. There was almost an air of expectation—of awareness, Itachi's eyes darkened to as he looked at her through narrowed lids.

"I think it's time you returned to your own room, Tenten."

Her alarmed, fluttering glance saw that the black eyes were no longer unreadable. She recognized only too clearly the emotions which blazed in them and her body began to tremble in petrified response.

"After you hand me my clothes," she said shyly, pointing to where her dress was lying by the door.

"What's the magic word?" he grinned, instantly dispelling the impression of arrogant cynicism she had sensed as being such a part of him when they were first introduced. In fact he looked almost boyishly appealing now and the dark hair that fell softly over his brow added to that illusion.

But it was an illusion. Itachi was far from being a boy. He was a man hell-bent on the pursuit of pleasure that did not engage his emotions. Just a need to procreate.

The warm intimacy of that dark gaze as it swept over her so slowly, gave the impression that she had now become the focus of that pleasure.

She covered herself hastily.

The warmth in her cheeks spread to the rest of her traitorous body. Her stricken gaze returned to his face, the colour deepening in her cheeks as he raised mocking brows above eyes that openly laughed at her display of startled modesty.

Her mouth tightened. "Go to hell."

He shrugged, then smiled a wry kind of smile that thoroughly mocked whatever it was he had been going to say before he'd even bothered saying it. "Then fetch them yourself."

"I'm not decent."

His smirk was wolfish. "Go ahead; it's nothing I haven't seen."

Her eyes flashed in warning. With a decisive growl she gathered the sheet around her body, got to her feet and was about to march across the room when Itachi stopped her.

"Leave the sheets on the bed," he commanded gutturally.

Her lips parted and she shook her head. "You can't be serious."

"Give it to me, Tenten." He held out his hand to her invitingly. A gesture she recoiled from as if his hand had all the appeal of an electric eel about to strike. "Or perhaps you'd prefer if I removed it myself?" His challenge—and her nudity—were obvious.

Tenten predictably looked no more happy about that suggestion, and she scowled at him. "You've just confirmed my earlier suspicion about your penchant for trying to shock me, Mr. Uchiha."

"Itachi," he drawled comfortably, his relaxed and lazy posture totally deceptive.

Her heart flew to her throat when he closed the distance between them. She gripped the sheet closer around her, unable to move—paralyzed on the spot by the bolt of electricity that shot down her spine.

"It's entertaining," His voice was very deep and his hands were firm around her waist as she stood in front of him, her face lifted up to his, and then, as their eyes caught and held, the moment lengthened. Her heart began to thud as he bent his head, but not to capture her lips as he'd told her not to expect.

No, the brief touch of his mouth on her forehead was the sort of chaste kiss one bestowed on budding teenagers, she thought unpleasantly as he released her immediately. Itachi registered without comment, the violent shock which hit her body when his arms touched her.

Tenten stared aghast at him and gave a low moan of horror, wrapping the white coverlet even tighter around her body. "Itachi?" she whispered, shivering uncontrollably.

His veiled glance played idly over her shocked face. Then he lifted his head, half frowning before suddenly smiling at her. "But understand that I'm not trying to force you into impossible situation for entertainment value. You need to get comfortable around me," he told her and for a second or two she had no sense of the direction their conversation had taken. "You're going to have to get used to seeing me in your bedroom—being in my bedroom," he said in a conversational tone. "I'm going to be around all the time. You needn't jump like a frightened rabbit every time I come near you. I've no intention of hurting you or forcing your surrender."

She was shaking so hard her teeth began to chatter. She tried to breathe but found that she couldn't. Her lungs seemed to have seized up while her heart was thundering against a steel casing of shock that had wrapped itself tightly around her chest.

He silently gathered her belongings and handed them to her. Her throat was too tight to say _thank you_. It hovered on the tip of her tongue again but managed to stay there while she simply stared at him, feeling helpless and hopelessly inadequate to deal with the fractured emotions clamoring her.

Itachi had just kissed her on her forehead.

Like her brother normally would—to comfort her.

She heard his breath catch and saw the coldness fade out of his hard face. His hands caught her by the waist, drawing her towards him again. "I'm not going to ask you about last night, we all have our demons," he stated simply. "When you are ready to—if you feel a need to talk to me—I'm here."

She blinked.

The smothering silence broke in upon her and she raised her lids to look at him. He was watching her, his face tortured.

Her heart drop like a stone to the clawing base of her stomach. "What is it?" she asked, thinking she might have said something she really shouldn't have in her sleep.

"Don't expect this sort playful banter every morning," his hands dropped and he stood back, shaking his head. "I'm not a morning person, be warned," he said harshly then added in an attempt to speak lightly. "I was only trying to get your mind off what happened last night."

"Playful banter?" Her mouth snapped shut, then on a shaky little sigh it opened again. "Well it wasn't very effective. You've never concerned yourself with my feelings before so now I'm even more curious."

"Well that's your problem," he very drily replied. Then in one of those quick-fire changes of mood he could undergo which tended to make her flounder, he walked to the door and opened it—an indication that she had worn out her welcome. "I'd prefer to not be reminded of it. Leave."

She gave an unguarded gasp of disbelief. "You're impossible."

"And you're stubborn," he retorted. "But unlike last night, you'll jump to obey me when I tell you to get out."

"Is that so?" she flung at him defiantly, her nerves skittering as he produced a wicked smirk and reached for the strings on his trouser. "I'm not leaving until you tell me what happened."

His body tensed. His smile grew savage. "Then watch me undress. I'm going to have a shower." The black eyes slid down her body, stripping her insolently.

Tenten was out in five seconds flat—still wrapped up in his sheets and carrying her clothes in her hands. She stumbled upon Konan on her way out the door. She appeared to be more surprised by Tenten's presence than the brunette was of hers, despite how early it was.

Her eyes cruelly observed Tenten, her face like stone. "I know you're a fraud child. I've got the necessary documents to prove it right here," she held up a plastic folder with the nanny agency's logo and smiled drily at her. "I'd suggest you started packing," she pushed past a stupefied Tenten to enter the room.

"Tell Itachi I said last night was amazing," she parried in a soft-toned taunt that stopped Konan in her tracks and stiffened her spine.

But as soon as she took off, the initiative, the old fear came flooding her stomach. Then the whole things flipped over like a spinning coin that falls to the ground to land the wrong way up. Suddenly the panic was back, sizzling along her veins and making Tenten realize that provoking an already suspicious Konan had been unwise.

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**A/N: Reviews are always appreciated.**


	13. Unrequited

**Help Wanted**

**Chapter Thirteen - Unrequited**

**Dedicated to MzJesA**

* * *

**"Because what's worse than knowing you want something, besides knowing you can never have it?"**

―**James Patterson**

Itachi watched Tenten bolted through his bedroom door. A whole host of conflicting emotions and desires were battling under the surface of his cool dark gaze. An image crashed into his head of her lying underneath him, her brown hair spread out on a pillow, cheekbones pink with arousal—so high and well defined that it was a sin she'd never smile to make them full and ripe. She was looking up, almond-shaped hazel eyes almost black, slumberous—pleading, ringed with indecently long black lashes.

And her mouth.

Lord, it must have been created by a god of decadence. The lush lower lip was a sensual invitation to touch and it gaped open inelegantly when his hips thrust forward and—

His whole body seemed to be igniting from the inside even as he tried to quash the picture. But its eroticisms lingered.

He shrugged mentally. He had definitely not counted on wanting her so badly. She would be the first virgin he took to bed—a novelty which he viewed as nothing more than a kiss of death.

He felt ruthless, almost cruel for making her do this, because he wasn't a man who dealt in the emotions that came attached to the act. And he supposed her antipathy towards him coupled with his own belief that he had to put effort into making it _different_ with her—would transform it into something much more passionate than either of them would care to bargain for.

Of that he was certain.

He felt righteous anger move through him at the thought. But he also felt uncharacteristically at a loss. What on earth had possessed him to hold her in his arms until she fell asleep last night? He couldn't even remember forming the wish or the desire to do so.

He remonstrated with himself. He couldn't go on like this. First the shower, now this. It was too…out of control. He had gone back in time to a place he thought he'd shut out for good.

The only other time he'd felt the same sensation of being out of control—he'd got it back by shutting off his heart. He liked his life just the way it was. He could cope with a certain level of dissatisfaction. Because the alternative if he nursed this uncanny attraction—attraction to the brat?—he shut down that line of thinking.

Broodingly he wondered if last night had all been a charade. That effortless display of vulnerability—of distraught in her sleep. Still, her tanned skinned that added so richly to her allure had gone so pale and cold he thought the sun had never graced her. Even in the midst of a nightmare she was simply ravishing. For that brief moment when she opened her eyes and had looked wildly at him, something hard settled in his chest and yet he felt curiously empty.

How could one night have made such an impact? Why had she pushed his buttons so easily? He didn't want to know, he told himself hastily. He let the indignation rise. Anything to help block out the far more conflicting feelings—like one in particular, which felt suspiciously and awfully like excitement at the thought of the next time she'd find her way into his bed.

But he wanted to—needed to know what the cause of last night was, and planned to get to the bottom of it. For his and his child's own sakes, he reasoned selfishly. He would not have any pregnancy of hers compromised because of some apparent post dramatic stress. He knew from prior battles, however, that it was a delicate issue so he would have to handle her with kiddy gloves.

What troubled him the most was that when he told her she seemed to have been running from something in her dream, Tenten tried with superhuman effort to drum up the brittle shell of her composure.

A wave of suspicion and something far too familiar for his liking made his chest tighten. She clearly felt as if he had gone inside, to her most inner, secret part and slowly ripped it out to examine. On the contrary, her antics had done the exact same thing to him, except that there had been no examination at either ends. He was only more clueless—even more curious about her now.

Ever since the hit on his family, Itachi had had the niggling fear that someday the culprits would return to finish the job properly. And he suspected that this time they would go about discreetly playing the offense. Attack from the inside.

There is a saying that the closer you got to something the harder it is to see it. That wasn't a quote Itachi took lightly. Over the years he developed an almost obsessive tendency to distrust anyone besides himself. They say to look over your shoulders but he knows to look in front of him. The enemy is usually hiding in plain sight.

That was not to say he thought Tenten was waiting for the opportune moment to slit his throat in his sleep. But he couldn't help questioning her motives for having showed up on the job as an ignorant fraud. And anyone who set foot in his life whether intentionally or not was kept under a carefully watched microscope.

His parents were already six feet under. Evidence pointed to Sasuke perishing in the flames that had consumed and left his car charred under a bridge across town. It meant that Itachi was the last of his kin and hence unfinished business. Sure it has been years…but that horrid symbol has been flashing frequently—warningly in his dreams since of late. And he could not dismiss the heavy sense of foreboding in the pit of his stomach.

His mouth tightened momentarily at how ridiculously superstitious he was being. Then with a decisive shake of his head he headed for the bathroom. A long cold shower would no doubt put things back into perspective for him. Witnessing Tenten's nightmares had dug up a couple skeletons of the past and awoken a few demons of the present.

"I see you've wasted no time familiarizing yourself with the perks of her trade."

Itachi stopped dead. It was only then that he registered the light click of the door and a low-pitched feminine voice coming from so close behind him that he fancied he felt a hint of warm breath on his back.

His shoulders squared in annoyance. When he turned around to address his guest he noticed how distastefully her eyes flickered to the rumpled bed before her gaze locked with his.

Her remark hung suspended accusingly in the air.

He simply stared back, choosing not to comment.

She folded her arms. Her exasperation was palpable as she broke the deadlock. "She said to tell you that last night was amazing?" It was a statement, a very suggestive one at that but Itachi heard the questioning note in her voice.

He felt his entire insides jolt as though given an electric shock at the implication of her words. He shrugged negligently, his hooded eyes hiding his reaction. "She did?"

Did he have sound to sound so causal? Shifting her tense stance, Konan looked away from him then back again. "I hope you got your money's worth," her mouth flicked out the semblance of a smile.

He laughed as if she'd made a joke and shook his head in disbelief. It was simply amusing how easily Tenten got into her head. Itachi had always thought it would take a nuclear bomb to shatter that stoic mask of hers yet here she was, with her face all pink and flustered, her eyes like saucers.

Black eyebrows with a silken gloss arched a curious look. "What makes you say that?"

"Because I'm guessing you won't be keeping her around much longer—" those striking amber eyes held him fast, the expression in them serious. "—after reading this," she held up a folder between them and produced a sheet of paper from it.

Itachi studied her for long seconds, and she would've given anything to know what he was thinking. But at long last he stretched out a hand to retrieve the document. As he silently read through it, a silly kind of laugh left Konan's throat at the very image of Tenten being dragged out by the police kicking and screaming.

"Konan," his long fingers folded the paper with slow, neat precision. "What is this?"

She stared at him in bewilderment. Having looked over the file it was preposterous that he should ask such an obvious question. "Proof that the girl is not employed by the company," she replied evenly.

"Don't you trust my judgment?" he asked and made her gasp as he ripped the letter into small pieces, then calmly dropped them into the waste-paper basket by his dresser.

It was such a cold act of dismissal that Konan began to feel slightly sick. After all the trouble she went through to come by that information, Itachi hadn't spare it a second glance or thought. It was almost as if he knew all along. Maybe he did, a voice in her head told her.

She had to swallow hard before she could speak, but her voice still came out all choked-up nevertheless. "Something felt off about Tenten so I thought I'd investigate."

Her addition of an apology seemed more to anger him than appease him. "You went behind my back," Itachi said stiffly.

She dragged her eyes up from the discarded pieces of paper. It took a few seconds for his words to actually sink in—then they did sink in and she took a few steps towards him. He valued the mutual trust between them above everything else and Konan had breached it.

"I don't trust her Itachi."

"You don't like her," he stated bluntly.

"And you're willing to let this slide, why? Because apparently you do?" she hit back, infuriated by the nasty slant his curt response was putting on everything. Like she was jealous of that—that fucking child, she fumed inwardly and hated the rush of colour that mounted her cheeks.

She didn't expect a reply and actually fell silent for a few minutes. She was staring at him, though, which made him quite uncomfortable.

Behind his ribcage gave that quirky little spurt which was becoming something of a habit every time it was implied his relationship with Tenten was transcending a surrogacy. Which it was not. Could not. Would not ever.

Konan straightened her trembling tense shoulders. "Well?"

"So?" he urged with a cool dip of his dark head. He heard the bitterness that crept into her tone, and it wasn't the first time he'd heard it when Tenten was the topic of conversation.

She was glaring at him now.

He went on before she could say anything. "Shouldn't I like the woman who's to bear my child?"

The question forced her into dragging in a sharp intake of breath. She was so stunned by that cynical enquiry, when she opened her mouth nothing came out of it.

Itachi didn't expect to shock her into silence, but she had nothing to say to that, and the look she was giving him was a mixture of confusion and—resentment? He felt a tingling prickle spread across the surface of his skin.

She let out a long sigh and recovered enough to say, "That was the whole point of contracting a surrogate in the first place. You don't have to worry about liking her because she won't be sticking around."

"I find it hard to believe that you could be jealous of Tenten." But then Itachi appeared thoughtful and added, "Or is there more to this?"

She stilled as if turned to stone then said incredulously. "What an absurd statement!"

He choked back the laugh that the comment elicited from him and merely said, "I know Tenten's a fake, but I had no other choice than to hire her," that ruthlessly calm voice explained, swiftly changing the direction of the conversation.

Konan blinked, and then narrowed her eyes on him, "What do you mean?"

"The agency had already collected payment for her. I couldn't let—"

"What?" she huffed angrily, cutting him off.

"—couldn't let my money go down the drain," he finished off.

"But she's not employed by them. How can they do that? That's scamming. You could sue them."

"Not without bringing my own morality under question," he reasoned rationally. After all, he had engaged in the illicit activities of the agency. To bring them under scrutiny would put himself and his own reputation on the line. "Besides, I got what I—" he lifted both shoulders, searching for the right words, "—I got what I initially paid for—got what I want."

The lean, handsome shape of Itachi's face had drawn into a cold, hard, impenetrable mask again.

"Or what you think you want?" she asked warily and pulled to a stop in front of him. "Given yours and the men in your family history with women like Tenten, I thought you would've been repulsed by those particular features."

"I am," he admitted, keeping his tone light.

Konan's blue eyebrows dented into her forehead but her lips quirked up. "Then why have you selected her, Itachi?"

She knew his black heart—knew the pain was still there, hovering like stormy gray clouds. Knew he lived with hurt and hatred for years because of what Nohara Rin had reduced his cousin to. Knew he had had his fair share of heart break in the past too, so much so that he saw love, romance and the likes as an overrated fantasy.

After a long minute of silence he blew out a breath. "Because the bitter memories of the past will keep me from falling for her," he dryly pointed out.

Smooth, blunt and honest.

Konan said nothing, just held his eyes with one of her disconcertingly steady looks and lifted up a hand to his cheek with a crazily disturbing gentle touch. Itachi released a broken little gasp, one part of him wanting him to jerk back from her, but another part refusing to let him give in to it when it would only tell her things he didn't want her to know.

Her eyelids drooped as she moved her fingers to gently touch the corner of his mouth. "You don't have to put yourself through this. What if your child was to come bearing her looks?" she asked, sounding mildly concerned and more like a woman about to get really personal. "I've always been here for you—will always be, Itachi. Don't rule me out."

Her face was inching closer, her lips parting.

Push her away, his one single working brain cell was screaming at him, but he remained perfectly still, confused by the expression on her face as it came ever closer to his.

A surprised breath prized his lips apart, she scooped it away with the lick of her tongue, then she was kissing him, crushing her lips against his lips, warm and soft and yet undeniably—unpleasant.

Itachi drew away immediately, searching her eyes. His heart wasn't beating as fast as it did earlier in Tenten's presence; it was thumping slow and thick. He didn't say a word for a moment then he grimaced, gasping in skin quivering consternation. "What the—?"

With a jerk of shock Konan flicked her eyes wide open and pulled back her head. Dismay instantly curled its way through her body accompanied by a wave of mortified embarrassment that flooded like fire into her face when she realized what she had done.

"I'm so sorry, that was out of line," she whispered, stepping back from him so violently she almost slipped on a pair of discarded tights she was certain belonged to Tenten.

His hand snaked out to steady her. "Konan?"

She wished with all her pounding heart that the ground would just open up and swallow her whole. Once again she took a shaky step backwards—right out of his reach this time—and thankfully managed to remain safely upright.

She dealt the undergarments a curious glance. Mortification riddled her blood and she spun on her heel, turning towards the doors to make as dignified a dash as she could.

Itachi's face crumpled with confusion.

All he knew was that watching Konan bolt through his bedroom door did not stir him in the same way it had when Tenten previously journeyed out. That was cause for concern, he thought bitterly.

But what was an even bigger cause for concern was the way she later lifted her small hand to slap him with all her strength when she glimpsed the pink lipstick smudge at one corner of his lips.

She went silent for a moment and though she was looking up at him, he could tell that she was seeing very little of him. Her gaze was fixed unto the bruising imprint where her palm had cracked against his pale flesh.

"Pink is not your colour," Tenten slung wildly, unapologetically. "Red looks far better on you."

Itachi's lean hand flew up to one sculpted cheekbone as he staggered back. He was so shocked by that raw surge of uncharacteristic violence from her that he could only stare wide-eyed into her angry face.

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**A/N: Ehhhh...like I told you...this story progresses slowly. ****Reviews are always appreciated. Thanks for reading :)**


	14. Unveiled

**Help Wanted**

**Chapter Fourteen - Unveiled**

**Dedicated to teressad97**

* * *

**"A secret's worth depends on the people from whom it must be kept."**

—**Carlos Ruiz Zafón**

The crack of her palm against his cheek took Itachi totally and completely by surprise. Tenten hauled herself back. Her heart was hammering in her chest, pounding as if she had just run a mile. Panic, horror and a whole storm of emotions she couldn't even identify poured through her like a deluge.

For a split-second, she collided with splintering charcoal eyes, incandescent with disbelief. It would appear that Itachi too, was possessed by the force of his own fury. He smouldered and vibrated and emanated violent rage into an atmosphere that positively sizzled, ready to burst into open flames.

He was staring at her, his face white except for the red mark where her hand had impacted.

Her eyes flashed. "I'm sorry, please don't hit me," she quavered, tears rising to her eyes at the fear exhausting her—the fear of his retaliation. "I'm sorry."

It seemed almost instinctively she had been bracing herself for the head spinning sensation from the vicious movement of a heavy hand across her face. But it didn't come. She blinked, finding herself under silent observation.

Itachi was standing stock still by this time. Every line of his body was taut but he was breathing hard and his nostrils flared.

Tenten found herself nervously moistening her lips. Pulses were beating painfully at her throat. For a moment she imagined a different face before hers—older, less appealing and with more sinister eyes. A tiny spasm of fear tensed her muscles.

Itachi swore violently as one of his hands suddenly swept up between them. He grabbed a handful of her T-shirt to haul her closer, frightening her out of her wits.

Her breasts slammed painfully into his hard chest. She stopped breathing as her nipples reacted and tightened. His mouth came close to her ear and he rasped, "Why did you do that?"

"You deserve it," Tenten whispered shakily, a corkscrew of trepidation and something else that she didn't wish to identify twisted inside her. "You keep reiterating that our arrangement is exclusive, yet here you've gone shoving your tongue down Konan's throat and God knows where else."

His face darkened, his eyes suddenly as hard as steel but he said nothing else. His gaze dropped below the level of her chin to the visible thrust of her nipples beneath the T-shirt she wore, silently he must wondering if she had a phobia of wearing bras, Tenten thought to herself. Not that the knowledge would displease him entirely, she figured.

Itachi was very annoyed however. It hit Tenten like a blow that arched her aching spine some more. Her heart fluttered into sudden panic and deep down she didn't want to know what Konan had told him. Though the fact that he wasn't hauling her by her ponytail and throwing her out the door said she hadn't said much—or perhaps anything that he hadn't already known.

And all in silence, she discovered that she couldn't take her eyes off him. Involuntarily she was mesmerized by the sheer passion of so volatile a temperament. She saw the flecks of gold in his eyes, the near invisible lines that fanned out from the corners of his eyes, and imagined how they would crinkle when he laughed.

Tenten tore her gaze from his and forced herself to look away, waiting for the fear of being hit to subdue and to give rise to the anger with Itachi's condescending attitude; the biting, aggressive anger. But it didn't come. Instead, a slow-dissolving heat seemed to be spreading out through her veins, warming and weakening her, making her almost sway with sudden debilitating bonelessness.

Not this shit again, she mentally screamed, willing her heart to slow its pathetic beats. He was breaking through the wall that she had built around her sexuality. He was smashing it down.

Their heads were so close together that she could feel his breath reach out and mingle with her own. She could feel his presence in her body space; catch the scent of his musk mingled with the expensive notes of his aftershave, heady and spiced. The smell of sex.

Dear God, what was wrong with her?

Since when had she even been aware of what sex smelt like?

Tenten felt weak in the pit of her stomach.

One of her hands was slung over his shoulder. It had been in the act of pushing him away. But now the feel of his warm skin underneath the shirt was acting like a magnet. The hand moved up of its own volition to his neck. In a completely untutored and sensuous move that had Itachi's heart-rate soaring.

She allowed the back of her hand to drift up his neck, pushing aside the open collar of his shirt. And then, her eyes following the movement as though mesmerized, her hand drifted upwards until her palm rested on his bruised jaw.

Itachi grimaced.

"Maybe you should hit me back," she suggested quietly, almost as if she were talking to herself, her voice shaking.

In a sudden moment Itachi was shaking her vigorously, her brown hair tossing to and fro against her shoulders. "What is wrong with you? Why would you suggest that I do something like that?" he demanded thickly.

**He** always seemed calmer—more at peace with himself after he slapped her, Tenten reasoned. Maybe it would work for Itachi too. "It'll make you feel better."

Itachi was thoroughly appalled, "Where did you get that idea?"

Horrid memory blurred the images of the present and sharpened the ones of the past...

"_A couple days ago you didn't know what the inside of a school looked like." He slapped her face. The impact loosened a stream of copper blood down the back of her throat. "Now that I've granted you the privilege, you want to get smart with me bitch!"_

_Tenten didn't dare stagger back, she knew what would come should she attempt to deflect one of his blows. She had witness what he was capable of firsthand and had scars to show for the times when she disobeyed or disrespected him. And if that wasn't enough, she was left with both a mental and emotional scar from watching him shot __the only parent-figure she has ever had __in the head, without so much as a second thought._

"_I swear I don't know who Kakashi is!" Hot blood throbbed in her veins. It wasn't the first time that he was asking questions about this Kakashi character. Ever since he got her enrolled in Konoha High he had been accusing her of sneaking away to see him. "I was only talking to my teacher! The other girls were being mean to me and he came to my rescue."_

"_Came to your rescue? What is he, your fucking knight in shiny armour?" There was a brilliant flash in his eyes, next thing h__e administered several hard slaps, but not a sound grazed her throat. Her face turned; her body did not budge. "I told you to be at the front of the school by 3:15 p.m. sharp."_

"_They were teasing me for being fourteen and unable to read," Tenten cried miserably, desperately. _

_He didn't understand the struggles of starting school at such a late age. And whenever she asked for any help with her assigments he would simply state that Rin was a smart girl so Tenten'll figure it out. She didn't understand what he meant by that or why he kept expecting her to have Rin-like qualities._

"_I didn't want to explain to them that I lived on the streets nearly all my life."__ She shook her head, begging him silently to understand. "That would only give them more reasons to make fun of me."_

"_That Momochi scumbag who claimed to have adopted you, kept you locked up as his little servant," he gritted low. "You're lucky that I found you," his voice emerged harshly._

"_Mr. Hatake is the guidance counselor, he was only trying to help,"__ h__er eyes stung with tears but her voice__ di__dn't waver. "I didn't know that the time had gone by so quickly."_

"_Two hours!" she was tartly reminded. "For two fucking hours I waited in the parking lot because I knew, had I come inside to get you, I would've throttled you upon sight." He told her unfeelingly. "Then I saw you exiting the building with him—he had his arm around you." Such bitter emphasis was placed on 'him' that Tenten flinched. "I could just kill you!"_

"_You could've at least rolled the window down when he came by the car!" she __stepped forward and pushed a finger into his massive chest without taking the conscious decision to do so. "Mr. Hatake has been nothing but accommodating since I started going to that horrible place. There was no need to be rude."_

"_That horrible place is where you get an education." __His expression was intense, harsh and her heart beat even faster, not in fear but in expectation. "And how dare you make a big deal over some silly cunts' remarks—"_

_She felt only a moment's surprise when his hand went to the back of her neck, his fingers gripping her hair to yank her head back. She held her breath as his eyes moved angrily over her face._

"—_then take that man to come see me?" he hissed at her. "I told you we were to keep a low profile!" his forehead furrowed in worried lines._

_But his stark language, the threat in his tone and the way his face had twisted, made Tenten feel even smaller. "He wanted to meet my guardian. I thought you would be considered that, despite—" her voice faltered and she swallowed._

_He looked down at her, his eyes fierce, filled half with disbelief, half with fury. She met his look boldly, but this served only to anger him more. With a snarl, he shoved her away from him. _

_He was quiet for a thoughtful moment.__ Then he grunted something unintelligible and sat down on the couch. She was still a little too numb to react. She had been attempting her algebra home work when he decided to unleash the wrath she had sensed when he picked her up earlier._

"_You're just like her, too much like her," he drew in his breath sharply. "You cry over the simplest of shit!"_

"_He said that I reminded him of someone too," __she supplied, stepping back, breathing heavily._

_His black eyes swept over her, brilliant and ironic. __"He did?" _

_It was asked so disinterestingly that it seemed as if he had expected the comment to pop up in the midst of all this. _

_He stood again, bristling. His face darkened ominously, features tight. He pointed at his chest. "If I catch you around that man again, I'll enjoy beating you to a pulp more than I did not too long ago. Get out of my sight!"_

_His words rang with conviction the future certainly lived up to._

Tenten went tightlipped upon realizing the slip of her tongue. The last thing she needed was for Itachi to start probing into exactly how she came by the notion. His apathetic nature aside, she knew his reaction to it could only take the form of two things; sympathy or repulsion. She suspected that it would be latter.

He stopped shaking her and stared down into her face. He willed her eyes to meet his, and as if she could hear him they did. A silken cord had wrapped itself around his every sense and he felt himself tighten and harden. She went limp, soft and pliant in his arms, her curves molding to his form like a jigsaw piece slotting into place.

Suddenly all Tenten could see was his unsmiling mouth. Her thumb moved closer, traced the corner of his lower lip, wiping away the traces of Konan—ie. the lipstick stain.

They were so close. And then his head dipped slightly. She felt his breath feather again. Her eyelids felt heavy and started to flutter closed. Every part of her was aching to feel that mouth on hers…

She felt her lips part. As if she did not even have the strength to hold her mouth closed.

Her body swayed. Very slightly.

Slowly, her insides turned over.

Then she felt him against her lips.

So cold.

And yet he sent warmth shooting through every fibre in her body. Her body shook at that first touch, as if he had set a match to her and sent her flaming into orbit. He stroked her throat with the backs of his fingers, barely more than a tease, and her knees started to feel squishy. It was not until her tongue slid—off its own accord—against the rich velvet of him that she opened her eyes and realized Itachi had merely pressed his cheeks unto her lips.

Tenten jerked back again. Her mouth fell open in surprise at herself. She could barely breathe much less form words. He had tricked her.

Itachi shook his head and a cruel smile touched his mouth. "Well now you've kissed me—" he trailed a finger down her cheek and around her jaw. Then he reached out and touched her hair, brushing a chestnut lock back from her face, draping it over her shoulder. "—the score is even, so you can quit being jealous."

She was not jealous.

What she felt was disgust and disappointment.

It was not disgust aimed at herself for actually wanting the bastard to kiss her. And it certainly wasn't disappointment that he hadn't.

No, that wasn't it.

She was disgusted by Itachi's cheekiness and disappointed that she had allowed herself to fall for it, especially after he had gone face-sucking with that bitter woman.

"Jealous?" Tenten spluttered and choked. "I only expect the same exclusiveness you demand of me!"

The corner of his lips tugged into a brief smirk. The action drew her eyes to his mouth and Itachi's smirk grew knowingly wider.

Feeling as if she were drowning in the hot steam of her own embarrassment, she struck back. "If anyone is jealous, it's her, and I honestly don't see what for either. Old men don't excite me."

Itachi arched a mocking brow, "And how exactly would you know what excites you? I thought you were a virgin, Brownie?"

She nearly moaned. The name was a caress, sliding off his tongue with all the practice that had made it sound like an endearment. Tenten immediately linked it to something sexual and chastised herself for even thinking that way.

So what if Itachi had just referred to her as a pastry? So what if he had a sweet tooth? It didn't mean that he liked her or necessarily wanted to eat her.

Eat her? Oh God. Her thoughts were getting more and more perverted as the days rolled by.

Her teeth bared a grimace, tiny earthquakes were going off somewhere inside her. Somewhere undiscovered—unexplored. "Don't call me that!"

He actually had the gall to roll his eyes and tell her that the nickname was suiting. "I thought age was but a number?" he taunted, echoing what she kept on reiterating their first meeting. "Our age difference simply means that I can offer you all the experience in the world," his statement was clothed but he made no attempt to dress up its underlying meaning.

"Who says I want anything besides the money out of this?" She folded her arms. The heavy sweep of his eyelashes dropped low as he watched her do it, and the tense quiver struck down her front.

His lips twitched and he asked silkily, "Who are you trying to convince? Me or yourself?"

She didn't know the answer to that one.

Tenten flushed and decided that it would be best to drop the conversation. That uncomfortable ache was back again and she had no intention of further rubbing it up the wrong way. "Where is the housekeeper? I'm starving," she instinctively looked around the massive kitchen.

The space combined elegance and functionality, blending granite countertops and marble flooring with stainless steel appliances and glass-and-wood cabinets. There was a five burner gas stove, dishwasher, French door refrigerator and freezer with both a cold water dispenser and ice maker. It came as no surprise that there was a wine refrigerator or that a small bar completed the sophisticated decor.

A large dual sink, microwave, coffee maker, toaster, electric mixer and a full step of sharp knives were the only things that took away from the otherwise vacant counters. All utensils and food item were neatly stacked away in cabinets or in the case of frozen goods, in the fridge.

When Tenten came down, her mind had been too preoccupied with anxiety over what Konan had unearthed to have noticed the lack of signs of any activity in the kitchen. Her stomach growled in protest now that she realized breakfast hadn't been waiting for her as she's accustomed to finding it, since she moved in.

"I fired her," he answered bluntly, seating himself on one of the stools by the bar. Brown eyes followed his movement without Tenten telling them to do so.

He switched on his tablet—that never seems to leave the kitchen—and when it didn't hold his attention for long, he turned his attention to the newspaper beside him. As the overhead fan rustled its thin leaves, Tenten smelled the fresh ink on its pages and imagined that it was perhaps still a little warm to the touch. It came in not too long ago.

She gaped at Itachi, "What for? Who'll cook our meals?"

"You will."

It was the cool way he relayed that that made her look up at him. The moment she saw the way he was sitting there looking as contained as hell, she knew he had turned back into the cool-headed Uchiha Itachi who did not play fair in a fight.

Her shoulders wrenched back. "What?"

He began to skim through the newspaper with detached eyes, "I've decided to let you absorb the duties of my house keeper," his tone was conversational. "I don't want our arrangement out in the opening, having in-house employees threatens our secrecy," he reasoned. "Besides, I can't imagine that you'd enjoy sitting around for an entire day just waiting for me to come home and have se—?"

Tenten snatched in a ragged breath and covered her ears, screaming, "Shut up! Don't say it."

Itachi stared blankly at her, lowered the morning's paper and, his face a picture of aggravation, and demanded, "Are you five?"

No she was not. What she was, was a little turned on by his bluntness.

She ground her teeth together. Give me strength! Was the plea that sprang to her lips, successfully smothered by her almost level, "Let me get this straight, first you wanted me to have your children, now I am to wash, cook and clean for you as well?"

He nodded once.

Tenten drew herself up to her unimpressive full height and shot him a look of blatant disapproval. "What am I, your wife?" Whether he heard the sarcasm she couldn't be sure.

She saw the wide shoulders stiffen. He turned to glare at her disbelievingly for long, charged moments that set up a now familiar sensation deep in her tummy, robbing her of breath and turning her face crimson before he muttered tightly, "Had I wanted you as my wife, I would have made it so. But I don't."

Anger flamed in the look she trained on him. "You say it as if I wouldn't have had a choice in the matter." She was at pains to project because the rage was rapidly subsiding, leaving an unwelcome feeling of desperate hurt in the region of her chest because of his curt declaration.

"You wouldn't have," his eyes flickered to a small brown parcel on the counter and he reached for it. In a matter of minutes he was ripping off the wrapping and laughing to himself. "Hidan must've stopped by earlier, this came in for you."

Tenten snatched the book out of the air as it came spiraling in her direction. She peered down at it with an opened mouth. It read _Sex Secrets of the Kama Sutra_. "Wha—what is this?" she stammered, continuing to stare aghast at it as if she expected the book to grow a mouth and gnaw at her fingers.

The cover art was the naked torso of a pale skinned woman lying on a bed of rose petals. A couple of them were concentrated a few inches below her navel, forming a red triangle to shield her more private assets from sight. Her breasts were rounded, full and bare except for two stray petals that covered her nipples.

Tenten blindly opened the book and was instantly greeted by another image that would've given her a nosebleed on the spot, hadn't she been trying not to give that damn Uchiha the satisfaction of knowing exactly how shocked she was by this little stunt.

"_Dear Girl Scout,_ _I hope you find this very useful. Happy baby-making, love Hidan._" Itachi shook his head as he read the pink card that came along with the package. _"PS: I read somewhere that a woman can't get pregnant if she's on top."_ Tenten flushed and to punctuate the humiliating point, Itachi went on_. "I'm guessing due to gravity, Itachi's little swimmers won't be able to make it all the way up your tunnel..."_ He lifted his eyes to view her with enough mockery in his eyes to make her wince and blush furiously. "_I thought you might want to know since attempting some of these positions would probably defeat the purpose of trying to get knocked up. It never hurts to have fun while you're on the job though."_

She just stared at him, dazed and shaken.

He used his lightest, most cajoling tone, his eyes searching her set-rigid features, suddenly, puzzlingly, wanting to see her laugh or smile—at least once. "Well that takes care of that. We were just saved a trip to the bookstore." When he saw Tenten's confused expression he added, "Have you forgotten how you pouted and gave me the puppy dog eyes last night, just to coax me into getting you a copy of this book?"

Tenten was quick to deny the allegations. She had never heard of such an immoral piece of literature. Moreover why would she ask Itachi for anything, not to mention something so erotic? "If this is another one of your ploys to coerce me into getting comfortable with the idea of sleeping with you, then I'm afraid it won't work. I refuse to be a guinea pig for sex positions—"

She went quiet as she watched Itachi's face go still. Very still. He actually looked offended. Obviously her accusation made him retract what he was initially going to say. His eyes intent on hers, he said softly, with a thread of venom, "You'll be whichever type of guinea pig I choose," he said with silken cruelty. "Now off you go, breakfast isn't going to make itself."

Tenten stood rooted where she was, her grip tightening on the filthy book. She couldn't believe people wrote these types of things or that it actually sold. There was a little caption on the cover that had told her it was actually best-selling.

"I'm not your maid!"

"You've got two options Brownie. Either you make us something to eat or—" he rapped out. Something hard and hot ricocheted through him, ending up in a knot in his chest at the thought of the alternative he would give her. "—or we sit down and go through every damn page of that book while we wait on some food to be delivered to us."

She wiped her sweaty palm in her shorts and switched the hand that held the book. Waking up in his bed had been frightening enough already, this—this was too much. The impossible ultimatum he gave her should have been expected, she didn't know why she was getting so hot and flustered over it. Worse, Tenten didn't know why she was even considering her options in the first place! Her choice should be crystal clear.

Laying down for him she would have to handle—as stipulated in their contract—but house chores had not been a part of their agreement. It could be argued that sleeping with Itachi was a million times more intimate, however, the added task of making certain all his other needs were taken care of did make their relationship seem more personal.

Tenten cleared her throat purposefully. A part of her was a tiny bit curious about the content of the book, but the rumbling of her stomach gave her enough resolve to fight the temptation. "If I consent to taking on the housekeeper's chores then I expect to absorb her salary as well."

"Very well then."

Just like that.

No hint of surprise, no raised voice. No response, not even a flicker of those long, lush, lazy lashes, the super-controlled bastard!

She blinked at him.

The silence between them began to stretch; she could feel it vibrating like a tautened wire between them. But, in a way, it made her want to do something to stop it, so she turned abruptly away from him, away from his carefully neutral eyes.

"Understand this," he finally spoke quietly. "You will not get a dime from me until after my child is conceived. If you think that you're going to get rich off me and bolt before holding up your end of the bargain then you're in for something."

She didn't answer, her small chin lowering to her chest in an act of sinking shame, and another tense silence followed. Her cheeks warmed with guilty color because that was exactly what she had planned to do—earn enough money to last for awhile, and then leave. A month's salary was enough feed and house her for half a year; it would be all she needed.

She had almost fainted when she saw the figures on his contract and wondered if perhaps it had been a typo. It appeared quite a number of times throughout the document however, which led her to believe that it hadn't.

Still, that Itachi was willing to pay her so heavily just to produce a child meant he must really want one.

And yet Tenten felt close to nothing for him or his cause, even if she would very much like to try everything in that blasted book with him. It was purely physical. Although she supposed that if it was given room to, it could bloom into something else.

She stomped down on the thought. Who was she kidding, she wouldn't know such things if it swooped down and smacked her in the face. Itachi was still a man, she would continue to resent him for that simple fact.

"You can't possibly be serious!"

"I am," he told her grimly. "Konan doesn't trust you and I'm inclined to take her feelings into consideration. She has proven herself to be a very good judge of character. No child, no cash."

Tenten shrugged it off and went about seethingly preparing breakfast. Clearly she had underestimated Itachi. But she would have to do something about that woman's influence on him, as well as his policy for no pay without product—i.e. a baby. It was ridiculous. It was modern day slavery and would no doubt slow her down significantly. If **he** was really an Uchiha then sticking around would not be wise. She needed to leave as soon as possible.

A little voice in her head told her that it would be wise to just sleep with Itachi and get it over with. At least then she would be able to fake a pregnancy test without raising too many questions, collect her cheque and be on her way.

That was what she would do, she decided.

Soon the wafting aroma of warm powdered sugar was rising like newborn donuts from the pancake batter with warm blueberries filling the air. It mixed with the roasted scent of coffee beans, sausages and egg.

"I don't eat eggs," Itachi commented dryly. "And the sausages smell burnt."

She narrowed her eyes and flung him a frustrated glance from over her shoulders. He was still sitting pretty on his stool watching her with keen eyes like a slave master, his words flaying her like whips.

In the process of sliding a pancake off the spatula and onto a plate for him, she was struck by a ridiculously childish thought. Before she could stop herself, she was spitefully raising the plate to her face and swiping her tongue across the cool ceramic expanse of it.

"We'll see how burnt it taste mixed with my saliva," she mumbled beneath her breath and placed the ladened plate before him, along with a cup of coffee so sweet it was bound to sting his throat.

It felt sort of exhilarating to be vindictive, Itachi made it so easy.

Tenten giggled.

"What was that?" his ears perked up, but his eyes were trained on his tablet.

Emboldened by curiosity, she stole a peek at the tablet screen. Her heart split open, remorse spilling out from the jagged crack-along with the hapless realization that he was looking at pictures of his deceased family.

She felt like she had violated his privacy and in a breathless rush of words she apologized when he looked up at her, his face a mask of granite. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry," Tenten backed away.

"I didn't realize that you would be having the utensils for breakfast," Itachi said, shoving his plate aside.

She wasn't following. "What?"

"Isn't that why you licked my plate clean of its imaginary gravy before you served me," he stood and advanced grimly towards her, eyes hard, mouth tight, his whole demeanor one of utter bone clenching distaste.

"What? You're imagining things Itachi," she shook her head as he closed the distance between them. Tenten was starting to feel desperate. She felt raw and vulnerable but tried to laugh it all off. "I would never do something so childish."

"Is that so?" the way he asked it indicated that he wasn't expecting a response.

Dropping her hand to her side, she clenched it into a tight fist of bitter aching despair. She hadn't planned on giving him one either. Who did he think he was, insulting her cooking?

His frown was as black as thunder when he extended the hand with his tablet to her. "You had asked me about Rin Nohara?" he questioned warily.

She nodded, taking the device with numb fingers. Happy to have him drop the issue. Her blood always ran cold at the mention of that faceless woman.

"Third row, second from the left," he instructed. The way his lips clamped together and his hand raked through his hair told her he was not too thrilled about having stumbled upon the picture.

Tenten's eyes raked over the figures all clad in graduation gowns and donning proud smiles. Her whole body jolted with horrified shock when she finally found the infamous Rin. Tenten would've been the mirror image of the girl had her hair been shorter and her skin fairer. It was still uncanny.

Next to her stood—a fresh wave of dread ran through Tenten—albeit him being years younger, there was no mistaking **him.** Then another sizzle of tension filled her with spine-tingling horror when she saw the mob of white hair on the other side of Rin. It was Mr. Hatake.

In that moment her mind was thrown into clamoring confusion. Her heart suddenly decided to stammer. "Who's that beside Rin?" she asked frantically.

"One of them is Kakashi Hatake, my cousin's best friend. The one with his arm around Rin is my cousin. He's—"

"Obito," The rest got stuck in her tension-locked throat and she had to swallow before she could say it. "Obito Uchiha."


	15. A Sinful Surrender

**Help Wanted**

**Chapter Fifteen – A Sinful Surrender**

**Dedicated to rukiaunohana**

**Reader's Discretion is Advised [Mature Content]**

* * *

"**Sex isn't good unless it means something. It doesn't necessarily need to mean "love" and it doesn't necessarily need to happen in a relationship, but it does need to mean intimacy and connection. There exists a very fine line between being sexually liberated and being sexually used."**

— **Laura Sessions Stepp**

_As the clock down the hall struck midnight, signally Tenten's death knell, a door begrudgingly creaked open. The smell of her own fear and adrenaline crept into her nose. The house was dead silent except for the intermittent creaks and moans. _

_The long nightgown that did not fit her properly―because it had been made for another woman―hampered her frantic flight down the corridor. The light fabric tangled itself around her as the wind tried to pass through her sprinting legs, threatening to trip her with every desperate step. She pulled the skirt up to her knees, and risked a glance over her shoulder._

_Obito was closing in on her, running her down the way a lion, maddened with blood lust, chased after its prey. His face a mask of fear and murderous, burning rage. With wild eyes, he stalked her. The knife in his hand would soon be at her throat._

"_Come back here!" His shout of rage echoed down the upstairs hall. The light of a flickering taper glinted on the blade he clutched. "I told you to stay away from that worthless man. He has no claim on you. I was the one who found you, and I swore on your―" his words slurred a little, evidence of his drinking. "I swear on Rin's grave I'll kill you before I let you make the same mistake she did."_

_She wanted to scream but could not. All she could do was run for her life._

"_Come back here you ungrateful cunt!" he cried out behind her, much closer. "What has your dear ole Hatake Sensei did for you, that I haven't?"_

_Tenten was at the top of the stairs now, gasping for breath. Fear clawed at her insides. Holding the long skirt of the nightgown even higher, she stumbled down the staircase, one hand on the banister to keep herself from falling. It would be bitter irony to die of a broken neck instead of a slashed throat._

"_I told you to keep to quiet, now he's calling here―expressing concern over your bruises," He was so close, so very close. "Bruises will be the least of his worries when they find your corpse tomorrow."_

_She knew there was every possibility that she would not make it out of the house alive. This time she had gone too far, taken one risk too many. She should've known that confiding in Mr. Hatake about her situation could only have resulted in him making a phone call to her guardian, he was after all the guidance counsellor. But it was fast becoming apparent that her quest for freedom could very well cost her, her life and her teacher's. _

_She had to escape―had to warn him._

_Tenten chanced another glance over her shoulders. Obito would be on top of her before she reached the bottom step. Soon she would feel his hands on her then she would feel the knife._

_The knife. Dear God, the knife._

_She was halfway down the stairs when his hideous scream pierced through the shadows. "I'm going to fucking kill you!"_

_And though that was the night she got away, when Tenten looked back in horror at his face, she realized that for the rest of her life, midnight would forever mean nightmare._

OoOoOoOo

Tenten stared aghast at the tablet's screen. "Uchiha Obito."

Shock buckled through her. And horror. Deep, deep horror. It galvanized her, filled her with fear.

Cold, terrifying fear as her eyes focused on the man in the picture. The dark of his eyes—even in the photograph—seemed to be burning with a blackness that was impenetrable. That reached down into the depths.

And Tenten felt for one sickening, hideous moment that she truly did have an Uchiha Curse. First Obito, now Itachi.

Something shuddered deep inside her.

Then, like the breaking of a tautening wire, Itachi leaned in closer, and the scent of his aftershave assailed her. Her breath stopped. It felt as if he'd injected some kind of life force into her body.

Every nerve came tinglingly alive, her heart-rate sped up—and down below, between her legs, she could already feel her traitorous body responding hotly, wetly.

She was caught between two worlds, defenceless and vulnerable, conflicting emotions whirling inside her—horror and desire—making her dizzy. Her stomach churned, and she fought to subdue her nerves.

Yet at the same time relief was surging through her. Somehow her awareness of Itachi had forced back the memories of Obito to the deepest, most damning depths of her mind. But this overriding sexual awareness of him was something she was going to have to school out of existence, she recognized with hopeless anguish.

"That's funny," he growled.

For a big man, he moved as silently as a panther. She closed her eyes in a childish gesture to block him out, but quickly realized what a mistake that was when he reached out, two hands encompassing her waist, and pulled her inexorably towards him, towards that searing heat. She was gripped by an awful feeling of inevitability when her back collided right into his chest.

Why he didn't like to be touched but couldn't seem to keep his hands to himself was beyond her. Perhaps he knew—knew that whenever he took her in his arms she went into a sensual coma. Knew that his mere presence short-circuited her ability to think about anything else but him.

It was pathetic.

Tenten's grip tightened on the tablet, knuckles showing white. She felt something intangible shift between them. "What is—?" Her voice was breathy all of a sudden. "What's funny?" she asked again, stronger.

"I don't recall telling you his name, Brownie."

If bodily contact hadn't completely drawn her attention back to the present moment, then the low and sultry way he said her apparent nickname certainly did. His voice was so hypnotic, resonating with something that pulled on her insides and left her weak.

And then she became aware that she _was _shaking—like a leaf, all over.

"Your friends told me," she answered quickly, fighting down the nervous tension that engulfed her. It never occurred to her that Itachi would be curious as to how she knew Obito by name, when neither of them had ever breathed a word about their families. "They also said he went crazy after Rin died," Tenten blurted, idly studying the features of the woman she could easily be a clone of.

Itachi stilled completely behind her, his fingers digging harder into the cotton of her shorts and into her hips. She leaned weakly into him, hearing the sudden, sharp intake of his breath. Then he was spinning her around to face him, her boneless body moving at his will.

"Crazy?" he echoed dryly, effortlessly dispossessing her of the gadget, setting it purposefully aside. "That is but a gross understatement."

"What happened?" she asked, hoping it came out offhandedly, though she suspected curiosity got the better of her voice.

His immediate response was silence, a silence so intense that she was shaken by it. He shot her a dark, complicated look. There were so many different emotions colouring his black eyes, too many to untangle, but she wasn't interested in trying, was she?

Still, she needed to know—needed to understand why she had to endure what she did for six years.

She had a feeling Obito had been tracking her, prior to the incident leading up to being rescued by him. For weeks she felt the unease of an eerie presence close by—had even spotted him twice on those occasions. It had unsettled her. Even more so because he surfaced around the time Haku was gunned down and murdered.

Though the suspicion was always there, Tenten hadn't had the strength to hold much up for analysis. She had been fourteen years old and grieving the lost of the only family she had. At the time she knew nothing but the knife-thrust pain of agony, grief and outrage ripping her soul to shreds.

For as long as she could remember it had always been herself and Haku. The streets raised them together, on the outskirts of Konoha—poverty and hardship the only parents they knew until Zabuza. Blood-related or not—it didn't matter to either of them—they found a home in each other.

"Was Rin's death his fault?" Tenten dragged her lower lip between her teeth, and felt her body go very still, as if it had been turned to stone, as the darkly brooding intensity of Itachi's eyes held her own.

She couldn't look away because she was drowning in those black, liquid depths, mesmerized by something that was stronger than her will.

"You mustn't meddle in things that do not concern you," he said, his voice rough, his mouth compressed.

"Well was it?" she pressed.

One of his index fingers slid upwards, along her side, then slowly, resting against the long, pure line of her throat. And she felt a tremor take hold of his lean body, it rippled through him, and the words she would have said dried in her throat.

Slowly the tip of her tongue moistened her parched lips, and she saw him close his eyes, heard the raw sound he made deep in his throat. Her hands splayed against his chest, felt the warmth of his body beneath the thin covering of crisp linen, felt the heavy beat of his heart.

Then she heard the rough intake of his breath as he gently set her aside and said unevenly, "His fault? I suppose you could say that, depending on the angle you look at it from." For such a proud man, Itachi was unusually hesitant. He was rigid, the wide line of his shoulders straight and high. "He came to my parents about a loan and we all thought he needed it for—" he faltered. Remorse and guilt shot through his eyes when he reopened them. "My parents didn't know—or they would've—" whether it was a conscious pause or not Tenten wasn't certain. "—see Obito changed after he found out Rin had been keeping something from him. What? None of us knew. We suspected that it was an affair, but it had to be much more than that for him to lose his mind the way he did—"

"Don't—" she interrupted, and looked quickly away, misery darkening her eyes. As much as she wanted to know what the loan was for, it was clear Itachi wasn't entirely comfortable sharing. And she was totally unprepared for the way he looked, his face almost ashen, scored by lines that weren't there moments ago. "—if it's too unpleasant, don't."

He visibly relaxed.

Immediately her hand was taken in a ring of heat. Tenten looked down to see her wrist dwarfed by his hand. "Itachi what are you doing?"

His eyes never left hers as he brought her wrist to his mouth and pressed a kiss against the pulse. She gasped and felt as if he'd branded her with that small gesture.

The silence that followed was dense, broken only by the pattering of her frantic heartbeats. And into the silence he said—a flicker of something like relief moved across the hard profile, "Thank you."

The sound of his voice resonated deep within her, but it was the fact that he tried to share with her—something that was obviously eating him alive—that really touched her.

Give it time, she told herself and looked up at him, wondering how her heart hadn't exploded into tiny pieces. "No. Thank you Itachi."

Babbled as it was, she learned a few things. Not that any of it aided to alleviate her confusion.

Obito and Rin were lovers, that much Tenten gathered, and her likeness to the woman obviously explained the man's fixation with her. But how exactly did Mr. Hatake fit into the equation? They were all friends in highschool, she knew that. Could the affair Itachi mentioned actually have been between Rin and Kakashi? It would explain Obito's bitterness towards the said white-haired man. But he said it couldn't have been a mere affair, she reasoned.

Then what?

OoOoOoOo

Tenten eyed the pile of laundry with a wry grimace. She suffered an ache at the back of her eyes that slowly grew into a full-blown headache after being given a list of the tasks to be completed for the day. Washing and cleaning, she understood—those were in fact house chores—that shopping and sex were added to the list left her whole body blushing, blood rushing through her veins like quicksilver.

It couldn't be said enough, Uchiha Itachi was an impossible man.

The conceit of the man, the arrogance, amazed her.

She couldn't move. She literally couldn't move a muscle, not even to crush the paper she held—with her death sentence imprinted on it. Tenten opened her mouth, but no words came, and she just knew she must look like a dying fish, and that made hot colour run from the slash of her V neckline to the roots of her hair.

"Whichever order you choose is fine by me," he supplied blandly.

Something inside her shivered and contracted as she glanced up at his stony profile, then to the list in her paling hand. Here she was, thinking the moment they shared earlier would've lasted a little longer. But the damn bastard just had to ruin it.

She wondered if he knew just what kind of hell he was putting her through. And having it confirmed that the delusional mad man who abused her for years was actually his older cousin, wasn't doing much to put Itachi in her good books. Not that he ever was.

Her heart clenched painfully. He looked at her, and Tenten quailed inwardly but tipped up her chin. "Oh how thoughtful you are…" she drawled with biting sarcasm. "…to give me a choice between being worked like a house slave first, or fucked like a sex slave." A hysterical laugh escaped her, "How will I ever choose?"

He stepped forward and she stepped back, seeing colour flash through his cheeks. The tantalizing male scent of him filled her nostrils, and frighteningly enough, she wanted nothing more in this life than to lose herself in the warmth and the strength of his virile male body.

It was a scary realization and she wondered if maybe it had something to do with wanting to be distracted from everything going on inside her head. Thoughts of Obito, Kakashi and Rin. Thoughts of how she was connected to them all.

With the pad of one long finger Itachi gently rubbed the inside of her bottom lip, his piercing gaze holding her captive. "Well, you can either follow your mind or your body," he said harshly, disregarding her startled cry as he further closed the distance between them.

Hesitantly, she searched his eyes and found nothing there but cold disinterest. She wasn't sure he liked her very much. "And what makes you think they both aren't telling me the same thing?" she snapped back at him, stung by his patronizing, cynical, coolly mocking attitude.

"In that case your choice should be crystal clear—" He reached for her and she trembled, knowing it was useless to try to challenge his formidable strength. She could feel the hard, heated muscles of his perfect body pressing against her own, and the sensation was weakening, sapping her strength. "—I need a child and you want me."

Once again he had moved with the speed and discreet of a panther, pouncing for the kill, and once again Tenten was unprepared for the molten heat that swept through her the instant he touched her. What was wrong with her? She wondered despairingly.

His contract dictated that she should remain stiff and unresponsive in his arms, but he disrupted her senses so that she could not think logically. She was conscious only of the tingling sensation in her breasts as he crushed her against his chest.

Dredging up every last ounce of will-power she possessed, she stared straight into his dark eyes and lied her ass off. "Contrary to what you may think Itachi, I don't find you in the least bit attractive. I certainly don't want you either," she made a face at the very word.

His dark brows lifted in an expression of arrogant amusement.

"I'd rather be doing the laundry," she told him thickly.

"Are you sure?" His mouth turned down wryly as he dipped his head. Then his lips were on her slender throat, pressing fervently against the flesh.

She gave a shocked cry when he moved his hands to the neck of her blouse and wrenched the fragile material apart. The buttons pinged in every directions. And because she wasn't wearing a bra, her breasts were exposed to his heated gaze.

She instinctively tried to cover herself with her hands. Not that she could, her bust was too large.

"No," he caught her wrists and tugged them down to her sides.

He was breathing hard, and the feral hunger in his black eyes made her tremble with a mixture unbidden excitement and foreboding.

She felt the rock-hard pressure of his masculine arousal hard against her pelvis as he backed her into the washing machine.

A tremor ran through her. He wanted to have sex with her—right at this moment, she realized. She couldn't do it, she thought wildly. Did he really intend to take her here and now? Drag her to the floor or spread her beneath him on the machine?

She felt liquid heat flood between her thighs at the eroticness of the prospect.

Her heart was thudding so hard that it hurt to breathe. "Come on now Itachi," she cried urgently. "You're not being fair."

"You'll give me what I paid for, Brownie. And when you do, you'll beg me to take it," he said throatily.

His fury and frustration were palpable. Yet Tenten sensed that his anger was directed at himself and knew that, like her, Itachi was startled by the intensity of the sexual chemistry that blazed between them.

Her heart slammed into her chest when he pushed her hair over her shoulders, then slid his hand down her body and curled his fingers possessively over her breast. He stroked his thumb-pad across her nipple in a feather-light caress and she gasped as exquisite sensation sliced through her.

"Christ Itachi, I said I'd do the chores first!" she gasped, her voice thick with arousal and she could do nothing to prevent her nipples from swelling into taut peaks.

He hands moved over her breasts, rolling their swollen nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, sending lightning bolts of sensation spiraling down to her very core.

She caught her breath when he flattened her back against the top of the machine and lowered his head.

He flicked his tongue back and forth over her nipple, building her pleasure to a level that was almost unbearable, and she gave a choked cry when he finally clamped his mouth around the provocative peak.

"Oh God."

The sight and sensation of him suckling her was so breathtaking that her lashes drifted down and she gave herself up to the storm he was creating, gasping with pleasure when he moved to her other breast and laved the throbbing peak with the firm, wet strokes of his tongue.

OoOoOoOo

Itachi's body shook with need. She tasted like pure sunshine, her skin as soft as rose petals beneath his lips, and he could not resist tracing them down her body, pausing at each blush-pink tip of her breasts, relishing the feel of her nipples swelling inside his mouth before he moved lower.

He felt the tremor that ran through her, but Tenten made no effort to touch him, she simply laid inert while he caressed her, as if she were somehow detached from her surroundings—from him.

An irrational kind of annoyance spiked in him, for she was only doing exactly what his contract told her to do. Lie unresponsive like a marble figurine while he took what she sold him. But now, in the midst of all this, he found that he wanted her warm and willing—wanted her begging for his possession.

During the last few years, sex had been rare. Even the desire for it had been rare. But now, as though it were fighting to make up for lost time, Itachi's body went into overdrive. He thickened, hardened to full strength, and the need began to whip through his system once more.

Because of this girl.

There was something about her that made him hungry.

"You can't do this to me—not like this—not here."

Even in her protest he could hear the hunger in her voice, feel it in the heated silk of her flesh. His hand flattened on her upper stomach, slid down, his fingers gripping the button of her shorts.

He was nearly shaking. Every cell in his body was in a frenzy of need to possess. To dominate. Destroy. If he didn't fill her with himself, he was going to go crazy.

His hand flattened beneath the loose material of her shorts, between her thighs and he felt the muscles there flexing, spasming.

She wanted him. Her womb was already clenching for release.

And he needed her. Her core would ripple and contract around him. It would hug him like a hot little fist and welcome him eagerly.

Tenten sobbed, "You said I could choose."

When he brought his attention back to her breast, he groaned at the acceptance she allowed when his lips closed over them hungrily.

She jerked as though jolted with a hard surge of electricity. Her nipple tightened further, if that was possible and fit perfectly against his tongue, drawing him into a heated intimacy he had never known before.

He never understood how intimate this simple act could be. Never knew that it could feed his arousal, feed that deep, uncharted core of emotion he kept trapped in his soul.

It wasn't trapped any longer. It spilled from inside him, filling him with blistering pleasure and acceptance. She was accepting him. Giving into him. Letting him inside her soul as he drew the tender bud farther into his mouth.

He drew on the hard, silky flesh, lashed it with his tongue, and felt his own body tighten in pleasure as her thin, sensual wail filled his ears.

Tenten stiffened when Itachi flipped her onto her stomach—in a dramatic position that placed her into ultimate submission by lifting her legs and putting them in kneeling position on top of the machine. He pushed her face down and she had to force herself to relax as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of her shorts and slowly drew them down, over her fanny.

Her panties followed soon after, crumpling into the pool of fabric bunched up at her knees.

Itachi's palms were warm and faintly abrasive on the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. Tenten gritted her teeth at the sensual friction of them against her skin.

She moaned loudly when he ran his finger lightly up and down the lips of her being, so that they swelled and opened like the petals of a flower, moist and sweetly scented with her arousal, ready for him to explore her.

A second later, one broad, male finger was piercing the velvet folds of her core.

Her breath hitched in her throat as she felt him part her, and she heard his low growl of satisfaction when he discovered the slick wetness of her. She felt boneless, mindless, and she allowed him to spread her legs wider, excitement cascading through her.

Tenten froze. Heat exploded inside her, tore through her bloodstream and into her womb as she felt the tender muscles clenching desperately around his caressing finger.

"So hot—" he murmured, his voice thick with sexual tension. "—like a brownie fresh out of the oven."

She blushed brightly, too aroused to appreciate the creative use of her pet name.

Her hips jerked as his finger pulled back, then stroked inside her again. One long thrust that had her gasping and arching in his arms, her thighs falling farther apart, her hips lifting for a deeper, wilder penetration.

"Oh God," she cried out as another finger joined the first, thrust inside her, parted flesh that had never known a man's touch, never clenched, never became slick, hot and achy as it did for him.

She was falling. Dizzy. Off balance. Her fingers scraping against the metal of the machine.

How could it be wrong when it felt so utterly and exquisitely right?

His fingers retreated and when his lips closed around the tiny, ultra-sensitive nub of her she sobbed his name, clinging to whatever she could as ripples of delight began deep inside her. Her body was so sensitive now, her bud so swollen, she wondered if she would survive if he didn't fuck her.

He didn't given her a second to protest. His lips surrounded her clit, sucking it into the liquid heat of his mouth with a firm, almost hard pressure that had her entire sensory system overloading.

Her knees bent, lifting, her heels rubbing provocatively against the fierce, thick flesh beneath the fly of his trousers as waves of burning sensation began to tear through her. It was a pleasure that bordered pain, pouring through her body with a strength and a speed that she had no hope of defending her heart against.

"Please," she arched and moaned, as his tongue licked slowly through the saturated folds. She couldn't believe that he was doing this.

OoOoOoOo

He couldn't believe how delicious and hot Tenten tasted. He never imagined that a woman could be so smooth and sweet. Almost like whipped cream against his tongue.

"Please Itachi," she writhed as he drew her fragile bud into his mouth in a long, firm kiss before he released it. "More," she whispered breathlessly.

Oh yes, he was dying for more of her.

She throbbed against his tongue, almost as fiercely as his length was throbbing in his pants. He was wild for her, driven by a hunger that made absolutely no sense to him, that had his muscles taut with the need to taste her, to touch her, to fuck her.

He owned her.

She was his.

Where the thought came from, he had no idea.

But it was there, suddenly so much a part of him that it sent a hard shudder racing through his body.

"I can't breathe," she panted, arching, writhing beneath him as his hands held her still.

Itachi lapped at her; his tongue slid through the soft folds. As he moved lower, the snug little opening clenched and fluttered against his tongue. Sliding his hands under her stomach, he lifted her higher, closer, then sent his tongue burrowing into the sweetest flesh he had ever tasted. Would ever taste.

Tenten knew she was losing her mind beneath his touch. Stars exploded against the backdrop of her closed eyes and left desperate for more. She fought the hands holding her down and pleaded for more.

"I told you, you'd beg me," Itachi muttered as his head lifted just enough to allow his tongue to lick back to her clit. Not that it brought her any semblance of control, because his fingers were moving in to replace his tongue—again—sliding inside her, first one, then two, stretching her with exquisite heat as she undulated.

"Please," perspiration gathered on her flesh, ran in rivulets down her back and between her breasts. "Please Itachi, let me..."

She didn't know what she was asking for, she just knew that she needed it. And quick.

"Please what?" His voice was a rumbled vibration against her clit.

His voice stroked over her senses, drawing her farther into the maelstrom of sensation tearing through her body. She was helpless against it, helpless against him. His fingers moved inside her with long, smooth strokes as she tightened around him, begging for release.

Never while pleasuring a woman had Itachi ever spilled himself into his pants simply from her pleasure, but as Tenten tightened on his fingers with a strength that had him groaning at the thought of her wrapped around his member, he couldn't hold back.

It was the most incredible thing he had ever experienced.

"Please Itachi," she would be embarrassed over the whimper in her voice later.

"Shhh..." he rasped.

Her hips lifted to his hot mouth as he licked around her clit with gentle strokes. She felt like she was about to explode from the inside out. "Please fuck me."

"I thought so," he said and she didn't need to see his face to know that a smirk was on it.

Then just as suddenly as Itachi's onslaught began, it ended. He coolly gathered himself and pulled away—her body clamouring for the kind of release he denied her. It was like a bucket of ice water had been thrown over the situation.

Panting, Tenten forced herself not to scream in complete frustration. She couldn't move. Could only stay kneeling where she was—sensitized to everything—even to the cool metal of the sturdy machine beneath her knees.

She stole a glance at him from over her shoulders. He was still hard, straining against the cloth of his pants, the tip damp, the flared crest clearly outlined.

His expression was enflamed, with anger or lust, she wasn't entirely certain. "The laundry won't do itself Miss Momochi. I'll be in my office, if you need me," he added almost suggestively.

With that said, he left. And if she didn't hate Itachi before, Tenten certainly did now. A pain, like a splinter of ice, stabbed at her heart.

Her body was still humming with unsated pleasure when she finally composed herself, picked up the laundry and shoved them in the washing machine, turning it on to the correct setting.

Her clit was still so sensitive and swollen that each step was an agony of sensation as it rubbed against the silk of her panties. And yet with each step she took Tenten felt the bitterness growing inside her and tried to bury the insane impulse to follow Itachi. If she did, she would no doubt be thrown across his desk and fucked until nothing else existed for either one of them.

But then reality returned.

To allow that man to break her virginity would be a far greater sin than any she may have committed so far. It would be the killing blow.


	16. A Sexual Kind of Retaliation

**Help Wanted**

**Chapter Sixteen – A Sexual Kind of Retaliation**

**Dedicated to MariJarvis**

**Reader's Discretion is Advised [Mature Content]**

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"**To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves"**

—**Federico Garcia Lorc**

Itachi slammed the office door and pushed his fingers restlessly through his hair as he tried to make sense of the impulses flowing through his brain. He felt sort of bewitched. There was a heartbeat of a second when his entire system froze—a single moment out of time when every cell in his body clamoured to go claim what was his.

Tenten.

Just as quickly, he reined it in, jerked at the ragged edges of his control and fought the hunger tearing through his system.

Fighting back an arousal that had slipped past his control wasn't easy, but he managed it. If he hadn't, he would've been preoccupied spreading her pretty legs and watching his thick shaft sink into the ultra-tight grip he knew would be awaiting him.

He felt a tug on his loins at the vivid visuals and stared at the ground, sighing roughly. He was completely unsettled and he didn't care much for the feeling. What the hell was this?

This is _desire_, a voice answered. The kind he never wanted to know, and never wanted to regret.

And yet, the damn brat was driving him crazy with it—just as crazy as he had been the first day she came in for the interview. The subtle, irresistible draw of her body had been almost more than he could bear. She looked at him with those big brown eyes, so filled with deceptive warmth, and something inside him had wanted to melt.

He lifted his head and stared off into the distance, wondering at the changes that were occurring too quickly around him. The changes within himself. He couldn't seem to make sense of it. All he was certain of was his need for her. The complete, compelling, unquenched need to drive himself into that pliant little body. He wanted all of her. Every shred of control, her last inhibition, the innocence that was so much a part of her that it filled him with hunger.

It was scary, almost animalistic is nature.

She was so young. Too young to know how dark, how intense sex could be.

He gritted his teeth, standing almost painfully to his feet. That fickle flesh throbbed beneath the fly of his trousers with a demand that was damned near impossible to deny. As soon as he made the decision that he would go take a dip and swim off the feeling, the door was flung open.

He faced Tenten warily as she stood there looking pale and a little petrified.

His heart uncharacteristically pounded out of control. Her gold flecked eyes flamed with fury and frustration as he stared back. Nothing in the world had ever looked so damned pretty to him.

She opened her mouth to speak, then her eyes widened slowly as his narrowed. He stepped around his desk, advancing on her as she watched him carefully. There was a new purpose in him, she realized, a hunger that had less to do with lust and more to do with pure, confusing emotion.

Her lips opened as she drew in a rough breath. Her breasts rose and fell quickly against the material of her blouse and the smell of her mixed with bleach and detergent tensed his body with the unadulterated need to devour her.

His white teeth flashed as he smiled slowly. "I didn't expect you so quickly."

Her eyes darkened with arousal and fear. More arousal, though, than fear. Damn, she was killing him. A second ticked by, then another as her eyes slowly narrowed on him and anger replaced the fear.

She lifted her chin and watched him with a mocking twist of her lips. "Really—" she drawled, leaning against the doorframe. "—I'm surprised you expected me at all."

He breathed in carefully, forcibly restraining himself to keep from touching her—from jerking her into his arms and pushing himself inside her. If he touched her, he knew he would never release her. It wouldn't matter if she cried. It wouldn't matter if he hurt her.

His fists clenched and his body trembled as he fought to deny the instinctive, primal need that howled out its demand. Something about Tenten made him dangerously hungry. Dangerously territorial and predatory.

"Why wouldn't I?" the amusement in his voice and expression had her eyes narrowing in anger. Then he was sweeping pass her and closing the door behind her.

She swallowed hard. Her breathing was faster now, those pretty breasts rising and falling, drawing his gaze like a magnet he couldn't resist.

"You're eager to get this over with just as much as I am."

She stared up at him in surprise, fighting the arousal that sang through her blood. Then she stomped her foot, glaring back at him in irritation. "That's not why I came here!"

Yet her heart was racing, her flesh heated, the soft folds between her thighs were tender, sensitive, swollen with need. And she was wet. She couldn't deny her need. She could barely breathe for it. It was tearing through her veins, the temptation burning through her core.

"Liar," he breathed.

The truth was there. He could see the lust filling her, pure, unbridled, but tinged with an emotion that tightened the heart in his chest.

She was scared. He could see it in her eyes. Scared, but she wanted him, wanted him just as much as he needed her.

"If I were Konan, I'd think twice about letting you shove your tongue down my throat after what you just did," she bit out quietly—hoarsely. "Don't ever do it again."

"Do what?" he lifted a coy brow, his expression blank.

Her face flamed in horror because she suspected he knew she was talking about how his sinful tongue had teasingly slid through her swollen, needy flesh. Oh God, she hadn't let him do that to her, had she? Hadn't arched into his mouth and begged him for more?

"Didn't you like it?" His voice was calm, infuriatingly amused but tinged with dark hunger.

She blushed from her toes to her hairline. Tenten refused to answer, refused to speak.

He watched the little points of her nipples tighten beneath her blouse and a softening in the defiant stance she had adopted. "Well?"

She hated arrogant men. But she was so shocked by his enquiry and her reaction to it that all she could do was babble incoherently.

Oh hell, she had liked it. She had liked it so damned much. It was incredible. Hot and tempestuous, and so exciting she almost screamed with the pleasure. Except he had stole her breath. Stole her breath—stole her thoughts when his head lowered and his tongue had swiped through the drenched slit.

"That's not why I'm here," she asserted.

His lips twitched, she wasn't outrightly denying anything.

"You can only push me so far," his voice was a hard, rumbling growl. "You can only deny me so long. Combine the two, and your time will be shortened drastically. Do you understand me?"

She looked up at him through her lashes, her lips quirking teasingly, mockingly. "What I understand is that you'll beg me when that time comes." She threw his earlier words back at him. "After all—"

"You talk too much," he cut her off, flashing a lazy smirk. "There are far better things you can do with your mouth besides spurting nonsense."

Fear mixed with desire as the implications of his words hit her. "—you're the one who wants a child and ultimately you need my cooperation to make it happen," Tenten parried with an edge of nervous arousal. "In other words, I call the shots."

"You are playing a very dangerous game," he breathed in and sat down heavily on the wide couch, staring at her as he fought the instinctive urge to jerk her to him instead.

She watched his movements, her tongue dampening her full lips with a quick little lick. Uncontrolled hunger fluttered at her like the wings of a frightened bird as she felt her insides turn with something greedy.

He shifted in his seat to relieve the pressure against his swollen member. He wanted nothing more than to hold her beneath him and he work his engorged length as deep inside the melting depths of her as he could go. She was melting. So hot, that her frustration was making her angry. Making him impatient.

"Am I?" Tenten came to him then, one small step at a time.

She stepped between his thighs and leaned closer. Itachi stared into the innocent heat and arousal reflecting in her gaze and knew he was drowning. Drowning in the pure, white-hot need that exploded between them and became helpless to resist. He was desperate. So fucking hard he was dying from the hunger crawling through his system.

His hand went to his belt, loosening it slowly as her eyes began to widen. He inhaled deeply. Sensuality suddenly darkened his expression. "Be careful Brownie, it may backfire on you," he growled.

A fiery heat filled her at the thought of how her scheme could indeed easily backfire, especially when Itachi's mere presence had such jeopardizing effect on her. But she wouldn't allow anything to happen, no matter how badly she throbbed and ached for him. Vengeance was the end game, Tenten couldn't afford to end up on her back.

"Be careful Itachi, that it won't," she smiled a mysterious, dangerous smile of feminine awareness.

He didn't have the brain power to pick a part her statement and analyze it.

The belt came loose. He tore the metal button open, and then rasped the zipper down. Her eyes became wider, darker, and sharp teeth bit at her lip. She swallowed tightly. Her eyes seemed to glaze as he dragged his jeans down his long, powerful thighs, removed his shoes, then kicked the material free as she watched in shock.

"I didn't come here to sleep with you," She had to force the words past her lips, staring down at him, she could feel the blood pumping through her body, adrenaline and lust flaming beneath her flesh.

His body appeared completely hairless. Even the heavy sac beneath the length of his erection looked smooth, impossibly sexy. She was dampening her panties.

"Why else would you come here?" he gripped her wrist.

She was a temptress, Itachi thought. Unaware of her own power, of the violent lust she aroused within him as she stared into his eyes and dropped to her knees before him. Her hands gripped his spread knees as she knelt between them.

"I came because I needed—I wanted," she could hear the plea in her voice.

One hand cupped around her neck, tilting her head back as the other touched her lips. "Me?"

"No."

Tension filled the air. It wasn't angry tension; it was hot, blistering in intensity.

"I wanted to let you know that it'll be you who begs the next time around, bastard," she muttered, frustration thick in her voice.

He was almost choking on his laughter as heat enveloped her face. "That'll be the day," he said dismissively.

One hand gripped her wrist as he settled against the back of the couch and folded her fingers partially around the width of his member. They couldn't completely surround it.

The hard flesh throbbed beneath her hand, silky and ridged with heavy veins, the bloated head darkened as a drop of white, sticky fluid beaded at the tiny slit.

He was beautiful.

She wondered what he tasted like. Wondered what would happen if she took him into her mouth. Wondered if she could coax the same kinds of reaction he had coaxed out of her.

"That'll be the day you say?" she muttered to herself, squeezing him.

It terrified her. The knowledge of what she wanted to do to Itachi―what she wanted him to do to her―had her shaking before him.

"That's enough Brownie," his hand tangled in her hair, cupping the side of her head as he drew her forward. "No more talking."

She whimpered as the thick crest touched her lips, parted them and slid inside.

Tenten couldn't help but think that this must've been what he meant when he said he had better use for her mouth.

Tentatively, she swirled her tongue over the engorged head, feeling his thighs clench, hearing the ragged groan that rumbled in his chest. His hand tightened in her hair, pulling at the strands and sending a tingling heat through her scalp.

His chest was rising and falling quickly as her own breathing became labored, and she let her mouth fill with the head of his length and the few inches beyond that, that she could actually manage.

Itachi felt his head fall back against the cushion behind him and fought to breathe. Tenten's mouth was hot, tight, drawing over the head of him, her tongue rasping the ultra sensitive flesh beneath it with such precision that he had to question her alleged innocence.

It was a struggle to keep his eyes opened but she looked so damn beautiful with her long hair flowing around her flushed face, her lips stretched around him, her dark eyes almost black.

Delicate fingers gripped the shaft, working it slow and easy as she drew on the crest. She sucked it, tongued it. Her cheeks hollowed and her eyes glowed, and he swore he saw the same needs in her eyes that he felt ripping through his guts.

Hunger like nothing he had ever known before.

Good heavens, he was creating a monster and her mouth was making one out of him.

Itachi watched, lust burning inside him. It was a pleasure so destructive, so all consuming he could do nothing but lose himself to it. She wiped away reality, stole his soul.

His chest clenched at the sight of her, emotions held so closely in check for most of his life swirling inside him, confusing him, multiplying the pleasure until he was pulling at her hair, his hips lifting to her, his length flexing, tensing.

It nearly destroyed his control.

He was almost shaking with the pleasure. "Brownie," his voice was low and tight with lust.

He hadn't expected this. He had expected a fight. He somewhat had hoped for a fight. Anything to give him an excuse to escape the hunger that dug into his guts like a dull knife.

But there was no escaping it with Tenten's hot mouth wrapped around him. She stroked, licked, sucked, taking him nearly to her throat before pulling back, only to sink down on him again. Her lips, tongue and mouth surrounding him with damp heat.

Her eyes gleamed up at him, heavy-lidded, dark with wonder as he branded her mouth, sleepy-eyed and filled with innocent lust. If he wasn't careful she was going to end this way before he was ready for it.

Itachi forced himself to release his fingers from her hair, and slid free of her lips with a small pop. Despite the shame and guilt that raged through him, he made himself stare down at her. Her eyes were nearly black with her own arousal, her cheeks stained with a flush of lust, embarrassment and shyness.

"Come here," he caught her arms as she moved to distance herself, ignored the flash of hesitancy in her expression, and lifted her to him before bearing her back in the couch. "You're so sweet, Brownie."

Her skin was soft as his hands gripped the hem of her shirt and drew it upward, drawing it over her head, then her arms, tossing it to the floor.

His lips were at her neck, nibbling, licking the fragrant skin as she trembled and gasped in his arms. For a moment, before he closed his his lips around her breast, he could do nothing but stare at the perfection he was ready to devour.

"So pretty."

The tips were hard, dark pink, the perfect mounds swollen and flushed as they rose and fell sharply from her agitated breathing. His tongue swiped over the delicate bud and he felt the muscles of her stomach clench beneath his hand, her hips bucking sharply.

"Don't do this to me Itachi―" There was fear and desire in her voice. "―if you plan on stopping."

He took a deep breath and glanced at her, his expression considering. He felt like he was being led on in some way. "I won't."

He let his tongue rasp her nipple as he sucked at it. Then pushed the shorts from her hips, down her legs, surprise flaring in him as she kicked the material free with an impatient move of her legs.

(She had had the presence of mind to plaster a band-aid over the brand mark on her hip before she showed up. Itachi took no notice of the strip of material.)

She moaned his name and he drowned in it. God help him, she was so hot, so soft and sweet he could barely breathe for it. He was dying to touch her again. To open her with his fingers, to taste her with his tongue.

His hand smoothed up her thigh and she stilled. "I want you there."

He moved with greedy hunger to her other breast, his gaze locking with hers. Her golden brown eyes were wide, dazed as she watched him. His hand neared the humid heat emanating from between her thighs.

"Here?"

Her head jerked. His hand covered the hot mound of her and she cried out brokenly. The sound went straight to his groin. He nibbled at the hardened tip of her breast as he worked his shirt from his body.

"Are you doing this for the sake of making a baby or because you want me?" she asked him out of the blue, her voice incredibly husky and hot.

His heir was the last thing on his mind. He was so hard he wanted to scream from the agony. When he was finally free, finally naked, his hand went back to her thighs, his fingers running over the damp silk of her panties.

"I want you," he rasped without thinking.

She jerked in his arms, twisting against him now as her own hunger began to reach a fever pitch. Her eyes closed, and Itachi couldn't help but watch her. Watch her cheeks flushing, her lips opening in a strangled gasp of pleasure as he moved the crotch of her panties aside.

Her cry echoed around him as he rimmed the sweet opening, his fingertip caressing it as he parted her. She was honey slick and hot cream. The feel of her dragged a groan from his lips as she lifted to him, her thighs parting further.

"How badly do you want me Itachi?"

He watched as his fingers slid through the moisture that eased from her, his chest aching as he forced himself to breathe, fighting to drag enough air into his body. She stole his breath, his control. His heart.

In that moment Itachi realized Tenten had the control to break him, to complete him. She had stolen the illusion of control from him and he didn't fucking care.

"Like I need air," he growled, slidding his finger to the wet velvet crease between her thighs.

She stilled, her eyes opening again, staring up at him as she whispered his name beseechingly. His fingers moved slowly through the slick crease to circle her swollen clit slowly.

He was dying for her. Overtaken by a deep, persistent ache which could only be satisfied by having her.

His hand moved from between her thighs. He wanted to draw the panties from her hips, show her caution and tenderness. So the sound of fabric tearing shocked his dazed senses though it did little to cool the fever raging through his blood.

The widening of her eyes, the glitter of excitement in them shocked him further. Apparently his sweet, shy Brownie liked having her panties ripped from her.

"Tell me Itachi," she breathed out, panting, her face flushed and lips swollen as she stared back at him. She made him crave her. Crave fucking her. "Tell me what you're going to do to me."

His face buried in her neck, his lips tasting her skin like a man more than starved. "I'm going to have you." His voice was tormented, his body tense.

She moved against him, unable to halt her body's response to his plea. She cried out, her fingers clenching in the cushions. He ate her. Every inch was stroked, licked, sucked. His tongue pushed inside her with a slow, even stroke, drawing yet more of the thick liquid from her pulsing center.

"Not like that," Her voice was hard, determined. "Tell me you're going to fuck me."

"You can't handle that yet," his voice was incredibly gentle, at odds with the hard sensuality in his expression.

"I don't care," her breath caught at the hungry look on his face. "Just tell me."

"I'll tell you anything you want to hear," desperation driving him now. He wanted her until he couldn't breathe.

She realized it and revelled in the satisfaction of knowing that she had him right where she wanted him. "Then tell me."

"I'm going to fuck you," the hoarse growl nearly had her coming, then his lips moved lower, his tongue flickering at her entrance as she gasped, then cried out raggedly for more. Oh God, just a little bit more and the tight knot of tension tormenting her womb would ease. Just a little bit. "Let me."

"Say please Itachi," but even as she spoke Tenten ealized that it might be her who ends up begging again. "Say please or we'll stop."

The need racing through her was frightening. She couldn't control it, couldn't ease it. The tension only built, as did the pleasure and the shudders trembling through her body. And Itachi was merciless. He thrust his tongue wickedly inside her as she arched to him, tormenting her, making her insane with the need for release.

She stiffened, fear of completely losing control of the situation―losing sight of what she set out to do―washed over her. She had to put a stop to things, had to get out of here before he possessed her forever. Because God help her, she would never find the strength to deny him anything he wanted otherwise.

"Please let me fuck you," he said without hesitation.

Time halted in its tracks for countless seconds as if it was uncertain whether it had heard the almighty Uchiha Itachi correctly. Even the pleasure that depraved Tenten seemed to freeze at the utterance.

"I thought so," she threw her head back and laughed as he rose over her, pushing between her thighs, his length stroking over her moist core's lips as he positioned himself. "Get off me."

"What?" He was breathing hard, fighting for control when her hands went to his shoulders, pushing him away.

"You heard me! An inch further and its considered rape. Get off!"

He shot her a look of pained disbelief―of confusion, her laughter sounded a little hysterical in his ears.

"Its like I said, I didn't come here to sleep with you," she said, but the need was shaking her body as the thick, bulging head lodged at her entrance. All she had to do was arch her hip and―

"God, Brownie," His voice was a cry of pain, a desperate dark plea that shook her soul. "Please, Tenten. Don't do this to me."

"Unhand and dismount me Mr. Uchiha," she instructed tightly, fighting another bubble of laughter partly because of her choice of words and because he looked about ready to rip the hair from his scalp out of frustration. "The chores won't do themselves."

"No, Tenten," He dropped his head, his expression tortured, tormented. "Don't do this."

"It has a bitter taste doesn't it?" She pressed at his shoulders, fighting to escape not just Itachi, but also the dark needs rising inside herself. "The taste of your own medicine."

She gave a soft, hoarse laugh that dissolved into a husky groan when he cupped her buttocks and squeezed roughly.

"God damn it," His curse was fierce, angry as the head of his member shallowly parted her and throbbed at her entrance. Tenten didn't dare glance down. "That was your plan from the very beginning."

"You're awfully cute when you beg."

He jerked away from her. His curses sizzled the room, his fury was a like a beast, wild untamed.

"Please let me fuck you," she jeered, echoing his words. "God Brownie. Please Tenten, don't do this," she spat spitefully, mockingly. "I just realized something. You want me a hell of a lot more than you care to admit."

"Get out!" he yelled at her, his expression so angry, so dark and so filled with pain that for a second she couldn't bear the sight of it.

Had she really gotten that far under his skin?

"And while it certainly doesn't feel like a novelty, I feel like it has somehow levelled the playing field."

Tenten jerked the scraps of her clothes from the floor as she jumped from the couch, stumbling in her haste, barely catching herself from falling. She struggled into it, laughing, shaking as she rushed for the door.

She may have succeeded in doing exactly what she came to do. But while she escaped with her virginity (just barely) she conceded that she certainly hadn't made it out with her innocence.

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**A/N: Hahaha. **


	17. A Fated Encounter

**Help Wanted**

**Chapter Seventeen – A Fated Encounter**

**Dedicated to Violetta-San**

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"**What's meant to be will always find a way."**

― **Trisha Wood**

_Heat rained down on the trio like a breath of hell. _

_There was no escape._

_It lingered even in the shadows where they sought refuge from the merciless white rays of the sun. _

_Sweat trickled down their backs, beaded on their forehead and dropped from their chubby chins like condensation down a window pane._

"_We're going in circles," Sasuke pouted, licking at his parched lips and pulling at his collar to let fresh air pass over his heated skin. He was certain they had passed the same building twice. The green and white graffiti on its walls was impossibly identical to the one they had stopped to ogle at, about an hour ago. _

_One of his companions fell into step with him as his pace slowed.__ He stared at Sasuke for a few tense seconds and then mirth appeared in his eyes. _

"_It would appear so," he commented wryly, eyeing the queue of __burnt out cars with half melted tires on the sidewalk. They were charred and black inside, the backs blown out where petrol tanks had exploded._

_The young Uchiha flicked his wrist and checked the time on his digital watch. "It has been two hours. I'm calling nii-san," he declared after a long debate with himself._

_It was getting late. They had no other option. They would just have to deal with whatever repercussions their actions may have sprung on them. _

_His white-haired accomplice made a face and straightened his knapsack on his tiny shoulders. "Don't go showing off and acting all mature because your parents got you a phone," he grouched. "You're still only seven and besides―" he dragged on grudgingly. "―Itachi will probably get mad at you for going off to explore without supervision."_

"_Oh come off it Suigetsu!" snapped a young girl with almost translucent skin and long ruby-red hair that fell in damped curls around her shoulders. It clung to her head like a thermal blanket, locking in the heat and intensifying her frustration. "I knew we shouldn't have split up with Jugo and the rest of the group. It's your fault we're lost," she turned on the boy like an enraged panther._

"_There is no cell service," Sasuke grumbled to himself when he flipped his phone out and was greeted by empty signal bars. "I'm going to go look for some—"_

"_You say that like cell service grows on trees," Suigetsu snorted._

"—_and no one asked you to come along Karin," he reminded the girl with an unusually hard edge to voice._

_She flinched inwardly but chose instead to direct her derision at Suigetsu, snapping, "Shut up!"_

_He inclined__ his head in acquiescence, quietly satisfied with the victory. They have been going at each other's throat for the past hour about whose fault it was that they were lost. "If you knew how to read a map then we wouldn't be lost in the first place."_

_Karin took one threatening step forward__. "If you hadn't wandered off unsupervised then we wouldn't need to be relying on my map reading abilities," she grabbed a fistful of his shirt, her cheeks the colour of overripe tomatoes, owing to anger and the arid heat that burnt their lungs. "Now Orochimaru-sensei will never take us out on another field-trip," she frowned to herself, released him and pushed up a pair of red-rimmed glasses on the bridge of her nose._

_Sasuke grimaced. He couldn't exactly say that the prospect of another field trip with their odd sensei appealed to him much. Not only had the four hour journey been a tedious one, but their destination turned out to be far less exciting than what it had been hyped up to be. _

_The Konohian Ruins did not—in any way—possess the kind of charm that could interest a bunch of first grade students. It was the skeleton of a city, stripped of its flesh long ago by war. All that remained were great husk of old buildings that lined the street like broken teeth._

"_Take a look around you," Suigetsu instructed tartly as if he'd read Sasuke's mind. "Do you honestly want to come on another one of these field trips?"_

_Invasive vegetation in walls, tattered roofs, remnants of shattered glass in rotting wooden frames and mortar were common features on every plot of land throughout the site._

_For a moment Karin seemed to struggle to produce an answer. She too had been expecting to spend the day at an amusement park. Not some forgotten city whose historic significance their young minds couldn't even begin to comprehend._

"_Well…" she drew out the word long enough to formulate an acceptable response. "…Kabuto-sensei said we would have to submit a research paper on this place," she held the boy's purple gaze and spoke firmly—confidently. "It's always better to have first hand information than to copy something off of the internet."_

"_What a nerd," Suigetsu mused under his breath. _

"_I could've asked nii-san about this," Sasuke said, wiping the sweat from his furrowed brows. He didn't see the point in the trip either. They were far too young to appreciate old things. _

_He admitted however, that it hadn't been very smart to ditch their tour guide when they knew close to nothing about their surroundings._

"_The place is older than our grandparents what makes you think Itachi would know anything about―" _

_Sasuke grunted._

_Karin bit her lip quickly and looked up at him through her lashes, feeling hunted. Like something dark and menacing was slowly closing in on her. _

_Onyx eyes narrowed in challenge. "―Nii-san knows everything," he interjected tersely. Still, his little chest swelled almost visibly with unbridled pride, as it so often did when he spoke of his brother. "Everything," he asserted cuttingly._

_She flushed and nodded, cursing herself for indirectly—unintentionally—belittling Itachi. Sasuke hated it when anyone made his brother out to be less than the God he obviously believed Itachi was. If she wanted to get in his good books, she had to worship Itachi accordingly, Karin realized._

_"Of course," she said humbly._

"_Let's get out of here," he said, not without __a small pang of annoyance but followed up by adding, __"This place gives me the creeps." He straightened himself and set off―his destination unknown._

"_Where are you going?" Karin stopped him, waving the rolled up sheet of paper above her head. "According to the map you're heading in the direction of the market. We should go east to get to the rendezvous point."_

_Sasuke did not stop, in fact hearing that seemed to have put more purpose in his stride. "So far that thing has done nothing but sent us in circles."_

"_But―" she protested with a pout. When she saw that he would not relent she sighed in defeat and scampered behind._

_The road lay before them like a tarmac ribbon; albeit, one that had been worn over time. A white line ran down the center, relatively unbroken compared to the scarred and potholed concrete. Hot wind howled across the landscape, covering their clothes and hair in the same dusty powder that lay on the streets._

_Generations ago these streets were rivers of people night and day. But war and corruption had reduced the city to nothing but a tourist attraction and a lesson for those who chose to question Konoha's current state. _

_Orochimaru-sensei had engaged the tour guide rather animatedly as she told them tales of Konoha's last battle against Sound. He was after all ex-military and had had a hand in bringing the great city under submission, so naturally, he had his own spin on everything._

_Sasuke hadn't been remotely impressed by the stories. In fact he had found himself having a rather hard time trying to keep down his lunch. The Kohonian Ruins was a nothing but a graveyard with unburied dead in his opinion. He could smell them in his mind as if the war was still raging―as if his sensei's hands were still red._

_OoOoOoOo_

"_I thought you were supposed to be the smart one amongst us," Suigetsu remarked dryly, loud enough for her to hear him above the __cacophony of sounds in the market.__ "Do you even know how to read a map?" he derided,__breathing over Karin's shoulders to get a better look at the printed lines and colours that stretched across the expanse of the paper she held. _

_Having skillfully woven their way through a sea of people by locating minute gaps between them and squeezing through, they found themselves catching their breaths by a large tattered wagon parked beside the street. It was decorated with a collage of vegetables and its owner was screaming prices and using the leafy end of a carrot to fend off flies. _

_The smell of freshly slaughtered meat, manure, baked goods, rancid body odor, chicken droppings and ripe produce was a combination of scents that no amount of air fresheners could ever conquer. It ruled over the cramped market space with an oppressive pungency that had Karin retching._

_Her mouth hardened into a grim line and she__ stomped on Suigetsu's foot with the heel of her boot. He yelped in pain and she barred him from seeing the map with an elbow. "This place already stinks—" she whined, wrinkling her nose. Her eyes never left the paper. "—keep your mouth shut and stop adding to it."_

_As much as he tried to ignore that disgusting insult his tiny shoulders went rigid—his eyes hard as he grated out, "That's why none of the boys like you!"_

"_If by boys you meant yourself then I count myself lucky," she told him witheringly. "I've got bigger fish to fry." When she did glance up from the map, she looked at Sasuke with an almost fiery blush._

_And then he seemed to freeze; she could see his shoulders stiffening as he slowly turned to face her, his stunning features perfectly blank as he enquired with formal politeness, "Is that so?"_

_Suddenly, the butterflies in her stomach became a flock of crazed eagles, and she almost had to turn her face away._

_Suigetsu snickered knowingly__—spitefully._

"_Where to next?" The indifferent enquiry was accompanied by a small, hard smile as Sasuke thrust his thumbs into the side pockets of his trousers and rocked indolently back on his heels. __He kept his expression otherwise starkly controlled._

_He knew precisely what that brief look from Karin had meant and it made him cringed inwardly. At his age girls and their feelings were the least of his concern. It wasn't to say that he didn't like Karin. She was to him as Konan was to Itachi—a close friend. He refused to entertain any misconceptions of what their relationship was, much as he didn't like to hurt her feelings._

"_Ummm...let's see," an odd tension hummed through her as her gaze skimmed across the map. It took more courage than she had expected to tell him that they would have to turn back. She had been steering them down the wrong lane all along._

"_What do you mean the market's a dead-end?" Suigetsu asked, panic seizing him. "Let me see that map."_

_Karin's teeth came together. She glared at him for a few seconds. "No."_

_No sooner had the word fell defiantly from her lips a forceful surge of wind stole through the avenue and the snatched the map into the air along with Karin's skirt. She gave a horrified gasp and sought to correct the malfunction but in doing so she missed the opportunity to catch the paper before it flew beyond their grasp. _

_They spent the better part of fifteen minutes trailing after the map as the violent unforgiving wind continued to race through the streets. It sent dust swirling and tore leaves from trees. _

_They heaved on their legs against the gale, against the pressure building in their chest and hitting their faces like it intended to go right through them. _

_"This way," Sasuke instructed, leading them down another lane of stalls. The smell of raw fish permeated the air._

_"Hai!" they chorused like diligent workmen._

_With eyes squinted to let only enough light in to navigate and keep the map in sight, they never slackened their pace. _

"_It went in there," Suigetsu announced when all is subdued and they stop in front of an abandoned shop just outside the busier section of the market._

"_Step aside," Karin commanded briefly, fighting for breath. "It went under the door, I'll get it." _

_As they stood back she walked past them and halted in her tracks, backing like a frightened animal—__her face whiter than paper. _

_"What is it?" he asked._

_Sasuke frowned._

_"This place gives me the creeps," she confided, suppressing a shudder._

_An eerie kind of darkness seemed to have draped over the structure like a tapestry when she took the first wary step up the rotting oak wood steps. Chalky paint fell in fragments leaving the splintered door a bare tarp. It whined on its rusty hinges when she pressed her palm gingerly against its frame. _

_"I'm not going in," she announced._

_"You lost it so its only fair that you're the one to go get it!" Suigetsu rasped at her. A shudder ran through him as well, he certainly wasn't going to be the one to go in._

_"But I'm the girl," she debated lamely—weakly._

_"I don't care! Go!"_

_She shivered at the Ivy that gnarled its way through the broken windows, tangling its leathery shape throughout the wistful abode. She found Sasuke at her back, his small hands on her thin shoulders,__ holding her, controlling her nervous quivering._

"_Stay here with Suigetsu,"__ he ushered with a kind of levelheadedness that kids his age didn't normally possess when it came to situations like these. "I'll go get it."_

_She gave a low moan of protest and fear but he was gone before she could stop him. "Let Suigetsu go instead," she was suggesting when Sasuke disappeared._

_The door creaked open, moving what seemed like millimeters at a time. It could move faster but the wood of the door had grown moldy and soft with water and neglect. Sasuke feared if he pushed any harder he would probably push right through it. _

_Once inside he stepped tentatively, as there were already several dark holes where floorboards have snapped. _

_Dust covered everything and cobwebs tickled his face as he stepped into the shop. A shiver ran down his spine. It was difficult to see through the billions of particles that swirled in the air but there was no mistaking the form of a young girl—about his age—with __a head of chestnut curls as wild as the jungle, untamable and unruly. _

_And she looked—Sasuke found himself thinking—an awful lot like the girl from the picture he had stumbled across in his cousin's wallet. _

_Of course it could very well have been a picture of Rin when she was younger, Sasuke reasoned. Obito was creepy and crazy enough about her to keep something like that. That he would have a picture of some random, homeless girl in his possession was extremely inconceivable._

_She lay motionless where she was and blood throbbed in Sasuke's heart, driving him onward in a near bout of madness—the map forgotten. _

_The floor continued to creak beneath his weight as he closed the distance between himself and the girl's form. __He heard something scurry—a rat perhaps—and gave a startled squeak. _

_And still she did not stir._

_Panicked, Sasuke dropped to his knees beside her and put out a finger, poking her cheek. Her head lolled to the side._

"_Wake up," he coaxed, shaking her softly. "Please wake up ma'am."_

_He pushed the dark locks from her eyes. The afternoon sun flooded in through the window behind them and aureole her head in brightness, illuminating the delicate sweetness of her face. She was kind of adorable, he found himself flushing uncharacteristically. _

_Something flickered in the very depth of his soul and he thought back to the picture in Obito's wallet. The girl had looked too tanned to have been Rin but she certainly had looked far too clean—and well taken care of—to be this girl._

_She had elfin features, soft and delicate. Aristocratic in length and symmetry. And that brown hair, it sparkled reds and golds in the light. Her hands were much too dry and rough to be those of a genteel-bred girl child. She worked with her hands. As a child laborer perhaps? In the soil? It would explain her apparel._

_Threadbare rags, really—very poor quality garments._

_The notion certainly wasn't dispel by the mud beneath her fingernails and her dirt smeared cheeks either._

_But then there was that necklace she wore—it looked strangely familiar._

_Sasuke eyed the jewelry at her throat. It glowed in the rays of sunlight. It was a silver necklace with a heart-shaped pendant, the heart cast in two halves. The sort of piece intended to be broken: a half of the heart given to each wearer. She wore both halves, though. Together as one._

_It was a very delicate ornament, designed with fine filigree. A work of art, really. _

_Much too expensive for a child of the street. _

_Was she a thief? Or did the necklace belong to her? If she was from wealthy enough background to possess such a thing, why was she living in such poor conditions, and why did she have callused hands?_

_He touched her lips, parched and white in the corners, from the heat and maybe even hunger._

_Warm breath._

_Faint puffs of air._

_She was alive._

_He sighed in relief. _

_OoOoOoOo_

_Shafts of sunlight burst through the boarded up window, casting a dim light across the room. Silence hung like a cloak in the old shop. Outside, elsewhere in the market, occupied shops were stuffed and vendors made the street extremely narrow forcing people to walk in straight files._

_All different kinds of shops and stalls stood on either side of the dirt road. A select few were built with doors―those that sold valuables―as owners were aware that doors didn't last long against the impatience, might and violence of some customers. They crowded the counters yelling wildly like mindless monkeys brawling for a banana. _

_The deafening chaos in the market could make ears split but eight year old Tenten had grown accustomed to it. She sighed peacefully in her sleep on the dust-layered floor―like a thick blanket that could muffle the sound of a thousand pounding hooves. Damp seeped across the ceiling, like reaching fingers, the smell overpowering but she had somewhat gained immunity to it._

_It was during the rainy season that the mildew and mould got the better of her. Thick green and brown moss tended to grow on every surface, absorbing the air's moisture. And that wasn't the worst of it. What was the absolute worst was the dank, humid cellar that exerted the strongest repulsion, even though it was wholly above ground on the street side, with only a thin door and window-pierced brick wall to separate it from the busy sidewalk._

_She came awake slowly, drifting silkily to semi-consciousness, one hand curled beneath her cheek, her tiny body cocooned beneath a huge transparent plastic bag—her makeshift blanket. Even though her eyes were still drowsily closed she knew the room was dark and, disorientated, she fumbled for her brother but his side of the ground was unoccupied—just as it had been for the past week._

_Haku was used to taking off and returning with food and hand-me-downs for them both. But none of his excursions had ever exceeded three days, for that was how long she could go without eating._

_Something about his lengthy disappearance worried her. She was not sure what it was and she did not want to think about it._

_The loud growl of her stomach almost drowned out the sound of a voice addressing her. It held no hint of familiarity but there was warmth and concern in it, and her eyes incuriously drifted to survey a tiny, pale face from which black eyes stared at her. Her heart fluttered._

_She was too dizzy from hunger to see his features clearly, but she could sense his inquisitive gaze. She loathed that look. It always reminded her that she was different._

_That she was cursed._

"_Who are you?" Tenten demanded, shooting instantly to her feet—her stance defensive, her eyes wild and alert._

_Those eyes, Sasuke thought and rose to his feet as well. _

_Sunlight pierced the holes in the boarded up windows—through the pockets in the clouds, warming the old room—lighting her eyes._

_He had never seen such a striking pair: a heavy brown center surrounded by a soft amber ring. In the light the irises glittered like gold. He very nearly dropped headfirst into her bewitching eyes. It didn't come as a surprise. Even he knew eyes like hers were the downfall of the men in his clan—he had seen it happen time and time again with his nii-san. Heck, if she was a little older she might've been Itachi's type. And there was always an example in Obito's obsession with Rin. _

_Sasuke swallowed hard and his hands slid down, balling into tight fists at his side. Since that woman became ill, Obito himself had gone sick—in the head. He relentlessly pesters his family for money and each time Uchiha Fugaku denied him aid, he would lash out in the most violent and vindictive ways. _

_The last time he slashed the tires of every vehicle in the garage. Sasuke fears that next time around it might be one their necks at the end of Obito's blade._

_He didn't understand the man's outrage or his apparent dire need for cash. After all, Rin's medical bills were already being covered by the Uchihas—so why was he so desperate for money? She was his only priority and she was being taken care of. _

_The Uchiha heads even kept close tabs on her and maintained good relationships with her doctors to ensure they were always kept in the loop on her progress with chemotherapy._

_What more could Obito want?_

_Itachi said he had a hunch the man was using again. _

_Sasuke hadn't been too clear on what he meant by that. At least not until a reference was made to Rin's return eight years ago—that was after she completed three years of study at the University of Suna. Both she and their other best friend, Kakashi had gotten accepted into the same university overseas. Whereas, Obito's poor grades could've only landed him a spot in a local community college. _

_Sasuke was only two years old when Rin reentered their lives; as such he had no recollection of how badly things had been between herself and Obito back then. He only knew that they had a huge fall-out after she returned, from what Itachi had told him. Apparently things got so bad that at one point her name couldn't even be mentioned without Obito throwing tantrums. Some suspected that he was simply jealous of all the things Rin now had credited to her name, but Itachi said there had to be more to it. _

_Obito never showed any signs of resentment over Rin's flourishing medical career no matter how bitter he was about her. It was the fact that all ties with Kakashi were severed—and have remained that way even after Obito rekindled his friendship with Rin—that left Itachi suspicious of a larger issue being in existence. _

_There had to be._

_Obito didn't spend two years in rehabilitation for drug use after both their returns for nothing._

_Tenten stiffened. __It might have been a trick of the light but she thought she saw a slicing glimmer of pain in the intruder's eyes as he stared at her._

_His gaze slid over her shocked features then he spoke, with a trace of high-pitched incredulity, "Do you live here?"_

_Her eyes narrowed into slits beneath her sudden frown. "What's it to you?" Her white lips spaced the words slowly. She was so hungry, speech felt tiring._

_A sob filled her sore lungs._

_Sasuke touched her brow. "Don't cry. Do you live here all by yourself?"_

_The gentle caress disarmed her. She flinched._

_He quickly curled his fingers into his palm and retreated. "My map got blown in here. Have you seen it?"_

_Obviously she hasn't. She had been asleep. Not that she voiced it aloud, too wary to do so._

"_Look, you must know these streets like the back of your hand," he commented, looking a bit discomfited as he rubbed the back of his neck. He sounded as if he was talking through a train of thought which had sprung to his mind when he asked, "Would you mind giving my friends and I some directions? We're not from here."_

_Tenten eyed the strange boy with scrutiny. It was still too difficult for her to see him clearly, but she appraised the soothing sound of his voice. It filled the small space with an odd presence. And for some reason it put her frazzled nerves to rest._

_Yet she ignored his question about her name. She didn't trust anyone._

"_That's a pretty necklace," he said next, flicking her a quick, warm smile. "It looks like the one my Aunt Rin used to wear during her teen days. Our photo album is filled—" Sasuke stopped and __stared with wide-eyed wonder at the sudden revelation._

_Tenten blindly reached for her throat, searching for the pendant. Her palm quickly gripped the heart, the silver warming between her fingers. For as long as she could remember that necklace had always been around her neck._

"_Where did you get that?"__ he asked stiltedly._

_She lifted her big brown eyes to his face.__ "I don't know. I've always had it."_

_It was the first time she had actually given him a straight answer, and the tension around his small mouth relaxed. She was filled with grief, he reckoned but he sensed a kindred spirit in the girl._

_There was a brief silence in which Sasuke made the conscious decision to drop the silly notion that the girl's uncanny likeness to Rin had conjured in his mind. What were the odds after all?_

"_You said you needed my help?" she drew her brows together and fished into her back pocket, producing a comb. Some of the teeth were missing and she struggled to get what remained of them to comb through the knots in her hair. She let out a cry of frustration before asking, "Are you lost?"_

"_Kind of," he admitted hesitantly._

"_Well you've come to the right place," she laughed with curt confidence._

"_Would you like some help with that?" he offered quietly, __tipping his dark head consideringly on one side, that grin breaking out, blinding her._

_Before she could decline he'd crossed to where she was, removed the large-toothed comb from her hand and taken over her task._

"_Hold still, I'm only trying to help," he commanded, as she instinctively tried to get away. His hand closed over her upper arm. She flinched. With a frown, he scooped away the tangle of hair covering it, revealing an ugly bruise. "How did you get that?"_

"_Some people are of the belief that all homeless kids are crooks," __she answered vaguely._

_Sasuke absorbed that information slowly and __muttered something incoherently that was probably impolite. "I'm sorry." he said tersely. "Do you live on your own?"_

_She shrugged. "I've had worse," she told him sadly. "And no, I have an older brother. Give me my comb back."_

_He ignored her and continued to work his way from the bottom__, gently working the comb through her tangles. She tilted her head back, and he could see that her eyes were closed, her expression contorting into comical little winces each time the comb got stuck._

"_I have an older brother too, I do this for him all the times," Sasuke told her when he had finished detangling her hair and she sloppily tied it into two buns._

_Her mouth smiled, but her eyes had no light in them, he realized. "A boy with long hair?" she snorted. "He sounds like a handful."_

_Sasuke's face was haggard. "You find that funny?" He tried to smile—he felt too bad for her to show his cynical side—his mouth twisting._

_She shook her head. "I find that boys with lengthy hair come with one of two personalities," she said, holding up two fingers. "Either they are sweet and soft spoken—like my brother, or they're short-tempered and arrogant."_

_He raised a fascinated eyebrow and said convincingly, "Nii-san isn't like that. You'd really like him."_

_The loud rumble of her stomach was not an interruption Tenten welcomed. She was so embarrassed that she turned her head to one side, closing her eyes. "Excuse me," she blushed furiously._

_There was a silence, partially filled by the sound of a zipper being undone._

"_Here," he said, pressing something into her side._

_Tenten stiffened, staring at him incredulously. "What's this?" she asked, glancing down at the bento box, her lower lip trembling._

_Sasuke bristled, the straight cut of his jaw rigid. "Don't ask dumb questions." Stormy eyes pegged her. "Take it."_

_She took in a shaky breath. She didn't know what to do; she hadn't eaten in several days. But could she trust a complete stranger? She couldn't do that. She didn't dare. She trusted no one but herself. _

"_Have it," he said softly, and touched the tear at her cheek. "Nii-san filled it with all my favourite treats, you'll love it."_

"_Thanks but no thanks," she said miserably and yet somehow there was a smile on her face. "I'll be fine; my nii-san will be back any day now with food," she told him, sounding wishful rather than convincing. _

_Ever since Haku got himself involved with that Zabuza Momochi man, he'd been frequently absent. _

_Sasuke blanched, "Any day now? Just how long have you gone without eating?"_

_She shivered, looking at him unhappily. "A little over a week—" when he gaped at her she added quickly, "—but some nights I come across forgotten fruits in the market, so I'm not completely starved." She tried to laugh it off._

"_Take it," Sasuke urged impatiently this time. _

"_I appreciate the concern but—"_

"_Shut up and just take it," he snapped. "And it's more concern that your brother has shown you. I can't leave here knowing that you were hungry and I had the power to do something about it but did nothing."_

_She was unsure of his words. _

_But his eyes. _

_That look in his eyes was almost honest. It had been so long since she'd seen such an expression. Haku has grown cold and distant lately. It was becoming more and more evident that the bond they shared was not of blood but of struggles. And now that he was being given the opportunity to overcome his, he was dropping her like the deadweight she must've been to him for the past couple of years._

_How many? She did not know._

_Ever since she had known herself, she had roamed the streets._

* * *

**A/N: So I know this chapter ended abruptly and it wasn't at all what you expected :( I know you were all waiting for some ItaTen scenes and had to settle for this major flop. I am so sorry, there are just some flashbacks that I simply can't cut out because they help to tell Itachi and Tenten's back-story. Sadly this one expands into the next chapter as well…BUT only a few paragraphs into it. **** Don't worry, the confrontation is coming and ItaTen will prevail ;)**

**Yes, Sasuke met Tenten before Itachi did AND before the massacre AND pre-Obito. No, Tenten doesn't quite remember. They didn't exchange names. How is this relevant to the ItaTen? You'll see. I promise. Please bear with me.**

**Thanks for reading.**


	18. The Imaginary Friend

**Help Wanted**

**Chapter Eighteen – The Imaginary Friend**

**Dedicated to LuluMonk**

* * *

"**If something is there, you can see it with your eyes open, but if it isn't there, you can see it just as well with your eyes closed. That's why imaginary things are often easier to see than real ones."**

— **Norton Juster**

Tenten came awake to her own sobs, her chest heaving as she searched the bed, her hands reaching across the distance, clawing at the sheets, the pillow, desperate to find her bear. Some may find it pathetic, but at age twenty-one nothing could bring her comfort after a nightmare quite like her teddy.

She shook her head, pushing her fingers through her hair—trying to shove a particular image to the furthest recesses of her mind.

Haku was bleeding.

Someone had shot him and he was bleeding.

She feel the blood trickling from the corner of his lips and on his hands as though she were staring through his eyes—feeling through his body. Feel the raw agony, gut wrenching and as desperate as his last breath.

It had to be a dream, yet it seemed so real.

Sobs tore from her throat as she ripped at the blankets, a guttural cry tearing from her heart.

"Nii-san!" Tenten screamed, her voice hoarse, raw from her tears, from the past horrific years.

The funeral—they hadn't even let her see him.

She fell forward, her tears dropping to the bed as she remembered, remembered and knew it hadn't been a dream. Her only family was really gone.

Forever.

They had closed his coffin to her. She hadn't been allowed to look at him, touch him or whisper goodbye. There was nothing to hold on to, nothing to ease the agony breaking over her.

There was only the emptiness. The emptiness of her life. There was only the horrible, aching hollow in her soul. It ate at her, burned into her mind and reminded her every second, every day, that she was alone. She had no one.

Haku was gone.

Forever.

Except in her nightmares, where he called out her name. Where he planted kisses on her forehead only to back away from her—his warmth slowly easing away, his form dissolving beneath her closed lids. Where he stared back at her with hollow grief. Or when she felt the pain of the bullet that had tore through his chest.

Unending, agonizing, so much pain.

Then as quickly as they began, as fast as she realized it was Haku's pain she was feeling, the dreams would shift—change.

"I'll never let any harm come to you," he reached out, his arm looping around her small shoulders as he pulled her close for a brief, hard embrace. "I'll always be here to protect you."

An agonized cry rasped her throat as she clutched at air, the insubstantial memory drifting away, gone. Just as Haku was gone.

"You're a liar nii-san!"

She clutched her teddy bear to her breast, rocking herself as her head fell back and a scream ripped from her soul. "Where were you when I needed protecting from Obito and where are you now that I need saving from my own stupidity—from Itachi?"

Beyond her windows, the still night was transforming and rain lashed down, torrential and unforgiving.

Like her tears.

OoOoOoOo

_Itachi's eye lids fluttered open at the first long rumble of thunder and he tucked himself even further into his silk sheets and the thin cashmere blanket. The power was out._

_Outside his window the sky was extra dark and low with ominous black clouds. The wind picked up too, howling, crying and baying like a wolf into the night. _

_The first crack of lightening rent the air and within seconds another rolling boom of thunder reverberated overhead. The window panes and the photograph frames on the walls rattled with its intensity._

_Soon the rain fell, slow to start, splattering against the glass haphazardly. Then it fell as if from buckets, cascading like a waterfall from the heavens. It pounded on the roof as if it were demanding entrance._

_Itachi sighed and rolled over unto his back._

_Hurricane Pein was finally settling in and at category five it was bound to cause some severe damage. Fortunately Sasuke and the others returned from their class trip before it hit land. There had been no prior report of any development, so it all came as shock to everyone when they were informed of the existence of a hurricane near their shores._

_Another bolt of white hot lightning broke the utter blackness, cleaving the donly lit room in parts for the briefest of moments. But not brief enough for Itachi to miss the presence of a small figure by his bedroom door._

"_Nii-san," a little voice trembled, tethering into the darkness—like ice flowing over Itachi._

_He immediately shot up from his bed and blindly felt around for the flashlight he had placed on the bedside table beforehand. A few things got knocked over in the process of him doing so._

"_Nii-san I'm scared," there was a whimper and then a muffled shriek as another roar of thunder echoed throughout the house. "Nii-san!"_

"_I'm coming Sasuke," Itachi assured him, soft as velvet, pitched low._

_Once the flashlight was recovered and switched on, he dashed across the room to where his younger brother stood, as stiff as a plank of wood, dressed in a blue sleep suit and rubbing the sleep and probably some tears from his eyes with a small fist. _

_He had gone pale and hollow-eyed, his tiny shoulders tense._

"_What's wrong?" Itachi asked, stooping to be leveled with him. At seven Sasuke was still rather small. "Don't tell me that you're afraid of a little lightening?" he teased, flicking his forehead._

_He flinched and reached a trembling hand up to soothe the sting of Itachi's finger against his skin. _

"_Come on, you can sleep in here tonight." Itachi smothered a sigh, got to his feet and grabbed his hand, but Sasuke refused to move. There was a hint of worry in the depths of his dark eyes, and a wave of something very like fear washed over Itachi. "Sasuke, what is it?"_

"_We have to go help her nii-san," his voice was whisper-thin as tears sparkled in his eyes. "She's all alone and probably frightened by the storm," he tugged on Itachi's arm, sniffing back his low sobs. "I gave her Mr. Chidori to keep her company but even he can't protect her from this."_

_Itachi touched Sasuke's cheeks gently, his own dark eyes filling with concern. "Slow down, who are you talking about?" he asked with the arch of a brow, before blanching. "And you loved that teddy; I can't believe you gave it away."_

"_The girl—" Sasuke choked, fighting to keep his voice even, to still the tremor of nerves Itachi could feel racing through his tiny body. "—from the market."_

"_What girl?" he queried impatiently, his face grim. "Sasuke what are you talking about?"_

_He was silent for long moments. "The girl who helped me to find Orochimaru-sensei and the others when we got lost in Konoha," he reminded him._

_Itachi's lips twitched and parted in a grin, and he chuckled—then laughed out loud. "Oh yes. How could I forget? You wouldn't shut up about her at dinner," he shook his head in amusement. _

_Apparently Sasuke and his friends had gotten separated from the rest of the group during the trip and a young girl showed them around. Itachi knew there had been more to the story because all throughout dinner Sasuke kept on touching his cheeks—which were unsually flushed—and sighing out loud. Their mother was the first one to pick up on what was going on and later it was revealed that the girl had kissed Sasuke on his cheeks after he gave her his bento box._

_Coming to think of it, he had finished his meal in record time too, and asked for seconds so he must've been hungry when he gave his lunch away._

"_I don't recall you saying anything about giving her Mr. Chidori. That bear was very dear to you—" Itachi was off chuckling again and pinching Sasuke's cheeks. His voice was almost taunting when he implied, "—but I imagine so is this girl."_

"_It's not funny nii-san," the young Uchiha closed his eyes, blushing despite himself. "She doesn't have a home," his voice trembled tearfully. "She won't make it through the storm if you don't help her!" _

_Itachi felt his heart swell to overflowing as he saw the vulnerability in Sasuke's eyes. Taking a deep breath, he said wearily, "You are such a crybaby."_

_His head lowered, "Would it make a difference if I liked her? Would you help her then?" he asked faintly, because he knew Itachi would do anything for him. "For me at least?"_

_The thought that Sasuke felt Itachi wouldn't help anyone other than him was like a punch in the stomach. _

"_Foolish little brother," he lifted Sasuke's face until he could stare into his eyes. "Just because its storming here doesn't mean it is in Konoha." He saw the confusion, then the growing hope in his little eyes and added, "In fact, it's probably so dry and scorching there that she'd count her blessings if it rained."_

_Sasuke waved his small hands in a gesture of disapproval. "I don't want it to rain there—" and then he incised firmly, his eyes still swam with tears. "—ever." _

"_Why not?" he asked him softly._

"_She'll get wet and catch a cold," he shrugged, wagging an accusing finger at no one in particular. "Her nii-san doesn't take very good care of her—at least not like do you with me." He smiled charmingly, his eyes staring back at him with such warmth, such love. "I never realized just how lucky I was to have you in my life," he said almost in awe and to himself._

_Itachi was so touched, all he could do was wrap his arms around Sasuke, crush him against his broad chest, and bury his face in the fragrant silken mass of his hair. "No silly, I'm lucky to have you."_

_When they broke apart, Sasuke's lips were pursed as if contemplating something. Itachi watched as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. His head tilted and he swore he could see Sasuke's quick little mind working in those wide onyx eyes._

"_What's on your mind?"_

_He placed two small fingers at the bridge of his nose and shook his head. "We have to get her off the streets nii-san."_

_Itachi poked his forehead once more and cocked his head to the side, "And how do you propose we do that?"_

_He straightened the sleeve of his pajamas. Ran his hand over the soft material again and then looked up at him with those angel's eyes. Pure innocence. "One of us has to marry her," He shrugged his pitifully thin shoulders negligently. "But you'll have to do it because I'm not old enough to have a wife."_

_Itachi wiped his hand over his face, fighting his amusement. "But I'm not old enough to marry either," he sighed indulgently as though it could've been a possibility._

_Sasuke eyes were still tinkling at the prospect even after Itachi deposited him on to one of the plump pillows on his bed and pulled the covers over his chin. _

_The sheets underneath him were cool and crisp, the blanket covering him soft and warm. It was comfortable, and Sasuke found himself heaving a deep, heartfelt sigh. "That way she'd have a home and I could be her nii-san," his voice held more purpose—more determination. _

_Itachi goggled, unsure how to respond. He had never heard anything quite as ridiculous come out of Sasuke's mouth before._

"_I'd take very good care of her," he promised, giving him another one of those saccharine-sweet smiles, reminding him just how big the kid's heart was—just how special Sasuke was to him._

_Itachi sat down on the side of his bed and looked at him curiously. "You couldn't keep a goldfish alive for a week. What makes you think you could keep a sister?"_

_A vivid smile broke across his little face. Itachi caught it for what it was—equal parts deliberation and playful manipulation. He blinked, long thick lashes covering his eyes for half a second, "Because I'll have you to help me take care of her, of course," he grin cheekily._

"_You only want someone to clean up after you," he threw a pillow at him, laughing. "Go to sleep Sasuke. If you talk anymore about your imaginary girlfriend, I'll actually start to believe that she's real."_

"_She is real nii-san," he said, even though he could feel his chest aching that funny way when he wanted to cry. Itachi didn't believe him. "She is and—"_

"_She can't be," he laughed, cutting him off. "For the simple fact that you actually seem to like this girl." Itachi declared, having trouble accepting that his brooding little Sasuke had found…love? "Does she even have a name?"_

"_We didn't exchange any," Sasuke pouted regretfully. "—she's like a mini version of Aunt Rin, nii-san," he whispered sleepy._

"_Is that so?" Itachi reached out, touching his cheek with a feather-soft caress._

"_They even have the same necklace," he sighed into the pillow. "When I told Obito-san about it earlier, he started asking me a ton of questions about her."_

_Itachi raised a brow at this._

_Sasuke grinned as his eyes drifted close. "I guess we really are blood, huh?"_

"_What makes you say that?"_

"_Uchihas always like the same things. He found her interesting too," he stretched under the blankets, his slight body relaxed and comfortable. _

"_Not for the reason you think," Itachi's mouth compressed. "Obito has always been fascinated with things that aren't there—" Things like Rin's romantic interest in him, he had wanted to add but bit it back, "—even whilst he isn't under the influence."_

_Sasuke's soft, unjudgemental gaze held his, "But she was there nii-san," then he yawned, his dark hair framed his sleep-flushed features as he breathed softly. "I think you would've liked her too."_

_He glanced over at his brother, a little smile tilting Itachi's lips, as Sasuke's little snuffles of sleep filled the room, he moved beneath the blanket, his legs stretching out as though in play. _

"_Obito's interest is not something I would wish on anyone—imaginary or otherwise," he admitted grimly._

OoOoOoOo

Much as it did that night, streaks of pure white crackled against the night sky—jagged bolts endlessly protruding—filling the sky with undying flashes of radiance. Then there was a sudden downpour and through the rain drenched air came the first low rumble of thunder.

A piercing scream rose from down the corridors. It seemed to rip from the chest, like a knife, brutal, merciless. Itachi jolted from his slumber, sleepy eyed, expression twisted into lines of horror as he stared sightlessly into the dark.

The air in his room was a cold caress upon his bare chest and face as he threw back the blankets and dragged himself out of bed.

Slipping out into the hall, he came to a stop at the door behind which the shrieks had came from. He eased it open and stood staring at her, soaking in the sight of the only woman who had ever awakened a desire he couldn't control, one he couldn't combat. It was evident in the way he had blindly allowed her to seduce him out of his pride and mind.

He had never been so humiliated in his life and a part of him wanted to leave her as she was—whimpering, bathed in cold sweat and in the grip of whatever was haunting her this time.

Stepping carefully through the room, he only meant to check on her, but when he stepped to the bed, he felt the pain that wracked his chest. He tensed and knew that the jagged wound that was his soul would never be at peace if he left her as she was.

He had an inking that it would feel strangely like abandoning Sasuke, but the corded muscles in his body tightened in rejection of the notion.

This was completely different.

Tenten was wearing a pajama shorts suit—faded with age—the top wrapped around her, holding her as he couldn't. Shouldn't. Wouldn't.

She was lying on top of the blankets, her cheeks flushed, her pink lips parted as her dark hair spread around her head like a halo. She looked prettier than ever.

There was something vaguely familiar about the way she puckered her lips in sleep, even if the fine cheekbones and delicately shaped nose bore no resemblance to the podgy, childish features of Sasuke he remembered.

He pushed his fingers through his hair, fighting himself, fighting the urges running through him. How was he supposed to steel his heart against this woman when her antics either reminded him of his younger brother and himself or sky rocketed his sexual frustration with her?

His control, so fiercely won after she had shattered and taken it from him earlier, demanded that he run. Run hard and fast, as far away from her as he could get. The emotional threat she represented tore at him. What he had to do—wanted to do to her terrified him.

He scowled. She was certainly altering his body functions. He supposed it was a long time since he'd been even vaguely interested in a woman and he wished his hormones hadn't chosen this particular one. But the curves of her lush figure literally took his breath away. To say nothing of the full bust and slender legs which went on forever and which were causing a glow to spread in the direction of his loins.

He knelt beside her, careful not to awaken her, his fingers moving to that glorious spread of hair, feeling its softness, luxuriating in the silken feel of it. He never knew himself to be such a weak man.

She moaned weakly, curling tighter into the fetal position that she had assumed, holding a stuffed bear tight to her stomach.

Itachi did a double-take, staring at the blue furr.

Shock and disbelief mingled in him. Every second was a revelation.

It was Mr. Chidori.

The golden bolt of lightening stitched near his heart was a dead giveaway.

He looked a little old and damaged. His beady black eyes were flecked with white where the paint had been scraped away. One of his arms appeared longer than the other—probably stretched out from being pulled on too much. There was a gash beneath the said arm, a handful of stuffing visible.

Itachi's mouth tightened into a grim line and his features settled into a heavy frown. He saw nothing of its defects—what he saw was a plushed toy that had been loved and obsessed over by his brother.

And.

A thief.

"What are you doing in here?" Tenten suddenly squeaked, pink with confusion. Snatching up handfuls of bedclothes for cover, she threw herself over to the far side of the bed. Her brown hair spilled over her shoulders in a way that no doubt enticed many a man. And he apparently was no exception. "Get the hell out!"

At the touch of her fingers, Itachi jumped up. He stared down at her with dark, hostile eyes. "Not until you tell me where you got that bear, thief."

"What bear?" his scathing words cut her like a whip, but bravely she raised her head. Those defiant eyes were wide and velvet brown in her heart-shaped face. "What are you talking about?"

His gaze slid to the stuffed animal, then contemptuously back to her eyes.

"Mr. Chidori?" Tenten asked bleakly, fingering the bear's ear. She was totally confused at the implacable look on his handsome face. "A little boy gave him to me a long time ago."

His stomach muscles clenched with horror. He didn't want to believe it, even as his eyes held hers unfalteringly and he saw the honesty reflected in their depths.

"Mr. Chidori?" he echoed.

And then the world stood still. A surge of something so instinctive, so primal, so inexplicable Itachi felt the world flip over and right itself again at an angle.

Not a thief, he concluded—ravaged by guilt and self-recrimination.

He stared aghast at her.

She was definitely not imaginary either.

* * *

**A/N: Another unexciting chapter…I'm just relieved to get it out of the way. Thank you all for sticking out the ridiculously slow pace of this story. It irritates me and makes me take forever to edit the chapters. I'm glad you haven't given up on me though. I really appreciate the continued support. Reviews are always welcomed, I love hearing from you. It inspires me (*^﹏^*)**

***cross my fingers that you didn't find this chapter half as irritating as I did***

**Thanks for reading, and sorry for the angst.**


	19. Itachi's Dilemma

**Help Wanted**

**Chapter Nineteen ****― ****Itachi's Dilemma **

**Dedicated to Piper White**

* * *

**There is a luxury in self-reproach. When we blame ourselves, we feel that no one else has a right to blame us. It is the confession, not the priest, that gives us absolution.**

― **Oscar Wilde**

"—which is why we've got a problem," Itachi finished off as if his breath hurt in his lungs and raised a shaky finger to call the server.

When she did not appear he turned his head slowly to his right—away from Konan's incredulous gaze—and watched a bartender scrub the glass of the chiller cabinet.

The music was as loud as thunder; but like hail on a glass, the drumming of Konan's fingernails was relentless. The sound seemed to rise above the bass blasting from the speakers and the twinkle of glass on glass as cocktails were being fixed.

She lolled her head to one side, her face rigid with tension. It belied her youthfulness; she seemed to have aged a decade in the past few hours. She wasn't drunk but after hearing what she just had, she suddenly wished she was.

"Let me get this straight—" Hidan was the first to speak. He held Itachi's gaze and lit up a cigarette to add to the hazy cloud spiraling in stagnant air. "—you're fucking your little brother's homeless, imaginary friend?"

Itachi's brows furrowed. Said like that it did sound pretty awful.

Hidan's mouth quirked, there was no triumph in his eyes at the response—or lack of—just mirth in the often cruelly assessing eyes. "Do you realize how severely fucked up your situation is?" he drawled. "Or how much of an asshole this makes you—" a warning look from Konan silenced him. He scratched his head, "What happens now?"

"You aren't thinking about marrying her like your brother had asked, are you?" Konan asked tentatively—dazedly.

Itachi frowned.

He was stuck feeling as if he had been hit by a car travelling at high speed. The shock of finding out about Tenten was tearing him apart. Still, he knew with startling clarity that the notion had always been there, pushed to the furthest recesses of his mind so that it wouldn't further prick at his conscience.

Even if the odds hadn't been very good, she was exactly as Sasuke had described that little girl from several years ago, down to the beauty mark to the side of her elegant neck. He had discovered it for himself as he ran his lips down the slender length of it the other day.

But she wasn't a little girl anymore, the unwanted aching throb in his body reminded him. At least not in certain places, he thought with an inward groan. He knew those places.

"Good God—marriage!" she rasped. "That is—"

His mouth twisted into a humourless smile, "—ridiculous?"

Tenten was everything Itachi had already decided he did not desire in a wife. She was too young and idealistic in her expectations. Expectations Itachi already knew—in the resolute way he felt he had to hold himself aloof from emotional entanglement—he would never able to and should never have to measure up to.

Her body's response to him indicated that they would both enjoy sleeping together, but he did not hold out hopes for the success of any other kind of alliance.

So, no. He was not planning to marry her, or anyone for that matter. Yet for some reason he didn't wish to make that fact be known to his female companion. He dealt Konan a pitying glance.

Her chin rose determinedly, "I think you should call off your arrangement."

His eyes narrowed. "Hn?"

She straightened as she took a sip from her glass. "Out of respect for your late brother. I don't think he would've been please—" she broke off as Hidan began to laugh, staring at her, bemused.

"We both know that's not the reason why you're concerned," he derided bitingly. "And I'm sure Sasuke would agree with me on this one," he rose his glass in a mocked toast, "That there's no one else in the world he'd rather have fuck his little girlfriend than his hero—big brother."

Her eyes widened with indignation and she slapped him across his head. "Watch your mouth!"

A nerve pulsed in Itachi's tightly clenched jaw, not merely at Hidan's audacious words but at the fact that there was some truth in them. Sasuke would've trusted no one else with Tenten but him. As the memory of what he had done to her a couple nights ago and everything before that flashed in his mind, a guilty tide of red swept over his cheekbones.

Sasuke would cry shame on him, had he been alive today and witnessed how he was crushing that poor girl.

The bartender came and set a stiff whisky and ice before him. Itachi eyed the amber liquid and the golden glow of the glass-like cubes. He swirled his cup, listening to the chinking of ice cubes and breathed in a fragrance that only years in an oak barrel could achieve. It was the only thing that could quell his qualms about what had to take place tonight.

According to their calendar the auspicious period for sex and conception had begun. And it was as if an alarm bell had gone off inside Itachi, every muscle and sinew were tense, every nerve-ending crackling with uncertainty about the whole situation. Finding out what he had about Tenten's linkage to Sasuke changed everything.

He wasn't sure he'd be able to sleep with her and leave with a clean conscience. Not when all he would be thinking was that the woman beneath him was the little girl his brother had always talked about.

Sasuke even spoke of her on the very morning before his death. He had asked Itachi if he remembered the girl he met in Konoha and asked if he thought she was okay. Itachi had poked his forehead and told him it was silly to hold on to a crush for so many years. A crush he probably would never see again. But Sasuke merely grinned, gathered his backpack, got out of the car and waved goodbye.

For the last time.

He was only thirteen and he held on to her memory for six years.

Why?

That organ in his chest, the one he thought he had crippled, missed a beat and Itachi felt his shoulders stiffen with tension. He didn't wish to acknowledge the answer to that question.

It was obvious in the fact that Sasuke had only ever shown interest in one other girl. A girl who, now that Itachi thought about it, reminded him of Tenten.

He poked the ice-cubes with his fingers and watched as they bounced back up and floated like submerges tiny icebergs. He wrapped his long finger around the glass and felt his heat leach into the drink.

He would need the numbness to get him through the night so he raised the glass to sip—felt the keen burn on his tongue and throat.

"Why are you even here?" Konan asked scathingly, and, not waiting for a reply, continued. "I'm sure Itachi hadn't invited you to tag along and I sure as hell didn't. Don't you have better ways of spending your Wednesday night?"

Hidan raised mocking white brows, "I prefer to spend it cock-blocking."

Colour suffused her cheeks. "What?" she spluttered.

"What better way to spend Wednesday night than trying to keep your hands out of Girl Scout's cookie jar?" he looked at her with eyes that danced with devilment.

Konan's free hand clenched tightly into a fist, her eyes deeply goldend in unhidden anger. "What are you insinuating?"

He gave her a wry grin before drawing on his cigarette with a harsh motion. "Please don't let me say it," he pouted. "As it is, Itachi is already traumatized enough with the knowledge of who he really has been sticking his dick inside. If I answer your question he'll only be further disturbed."

A frown pleated her blue brows as she slid her empty glass across the wood top to the bartender. "Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"Maybe if you were my mother I would," he said huskily, his smouldering gaze sweeping over her in almost worshipful appreciation.

Konan shuddered. "Are you certain Tenten is the same girl? Did you ask her about meeting Sasuke?" she gave Itachi a considering look from beneath lowered lashes.

He tilted his head and mirrored the look she gave him. "I didn't want to embarrass her. Sasuke said she didn't even know what a school was when he met her—"

"Wow. You've certainly lowered your standards," she jeered remorselessly, interrupting him. When Itachi's eyes narrowed coldly at her she added, "I guess it makes sense why she would fake her profession."

"—I don't suppose she'd want me to know anything about the childhood she had so I didn't let her know that I did." His dark gaze swept over Konan with chilling intensity when her words registered. "Your jabs are starting to annoy me," his tone was softly warning—dangerously so. "I don't see her story as one to be ridiculed and I can assure you that she's very educated."

"You say that like you took offence to it?" she half-insinuated, half-stated.

"I did."

She swallowed but her eyes sparkled rebelliously. "Why did you call if not to tell me that this discovery has led you to change your mind?"

His mouth quirked at her astonished tone, "Should it?"

She was startled by the question. Still, she cleared her throat. "Given the circumstances I think the emotional detachment you wish to maintain throughout the length of your arrangement will be threatened."

Itachi shrugged with complete indifference, "That won't be a problem."

Her shoulders hunched stiffly, "For such a long time you've thought of her as an imaginary person—a figment of Sasuke's imagination," she uncharacteristically reached out and covered his hands with hers. "Now that she's real, it will feel like reuniting with a piece of your brother."

Hidan twisted his lips around the cigarette clamped between his teeth. "That actually makes sense."

Konan gave a regretful sigh and lowered her head. "I can't even tell you to throw her out, because now more than ever you'll want to keep her in."

Itachi blinked as he recognized the remorse she could not hide shimmering in her amber eyes. Then he wondered if he had imagined it as she raised her head.

Her gaze was cold as she continued, "And I'm not merely talking about keeping her inside your house."

A trickle of something snaked down his spine, and he went hot and cold by turns. But he refused to give in to it. Instead he pulled his hand from beneath hers and raised his glass to his lips again. Raised it and let the amber fluid sit in his mouth before swallowing. He closed his eyes, dwelling not only on the flavour but also on her words.

As much as he wished he could deny it, he knew that what Konan said had struck a raw nerve. Would he end up letting Tenten into more than just his home because of her connection to Sasuke? Or was it already too late, and she was already in where she shouldn't be and because of something else?

OoOoOoOo

Tonight was the night.

It was indicated in red on the calendar attached to the refrigerator.

Tenten's stomach churned with nerves, and she could not concentrate properly on what she was doing. She doubted that Itachi would accept whatever excuse she came up with—whatever attempt she made to bail. If there was ever something he took more seriously than his job it was hers—and that was bearing him a child.

His silence over the past couple of days had been almost as odd as it was nerve-racking. She wasn't even sure it had anything to do with that stunt she pulled in his office.

Her heart leapt crazily at the memory and for a moment she simply stared, wide-eyed as shame and self-disgust made her tremble. All sorts of shivers went through her, but not all of them were of disgust or trepidation, she acknowledged grimly.

It had been so erotic. The feel of the strongest and yet the most vulnerable part of him held securely within her mouth. The low muttered groan that rumbled in his chest as her tongue licked over—

Even now his taste filled her mouth, and in a distant, horror-filled part of her mind Tenten realized that she had been coaxed into doing all of that by a book and not merely a need to retaliate.

"That's it—" she decided frustratedly, checking to see if the chicken was browned evenly on all sides.

Why the hell had she read it? If the cover wasn't hint enough of what it would contain, the fact that it was a gift from Hidan should've cued her in on its content.

"—that damn book is going in the trash," she declared, adding water, salt, pepper and various ingredients to her pot. "I'm so stupid. I can't believe I did that," her tongue coiled in revulsion.

As she took out her frustration with herself on the kitchen implements she didn't notice Itachi standing at the door, with his shoulder propped against the frame, watching her. Which was unusual because she could always tell when he had entered a room. Something in the air always seemed to shift.

She opened the fridge door and took out a jar of pickles. She was grumbling to herself about how he invited himself into her room the other night and stared at her and her teddy bear as if they had both sprouted two heads when she heard a deep, drawling voice. "I see you're adjusting nicely to your various roles."

Tenten whirled around, her heart in her mouth, and promptly dropped the jar on the immaculate slate floor. In an instant Itachi was there, bending down to pick up the biggest glass pieces. Her heart was still hammering as she looked down at his dark glossy head. She moved jerkily to help, but gasped in sudden pain as a piece of glass lanced the underside of her bare foot.

He stood and caught her expertly just as she was about to lose balance, and before Tenten knew it he was lifting her bodily over the mess as if she weighed nothing and sitting her on top of a counter. He bent down to inspect her foot, which was throbbing painfully now.

"You fucking startled me," she gritted out.

He lifted her foot into his big, warm hands and looked at her briefly, coolly. "You need to be more careful."

Suddenly she felt strange emotion well up within her at the way he was so gently holding her foot, at such odds with his coolness. It was as if his touch was melting the ice she had been trying to pack around her heart just so she would be able to get through the next couple of days—the next couple of months.

Itachi raised to his full height, cradling her foot in his hand, and looked at the down bent head, streaking with various shades of red and brown under the lights of the kitchen. His eyes were faintly amused as he gave her a glance of male appreciation. She was like a fever in his blood.

Her breathing was ragged and she smelled of perfume, spice and furniture polish. The myriad of scents that wafted through the air took him back to the days when his mother was still around.

He forced himself to disregard his awareness of her and focused on taking out the surprisingly large splinter of glass.

She gave a soft gasp of pain as he did so, and he then busied himself with getting something to clean the wound. That gasp of pain affected him more than he cared to admit. But as he placed a plaster over the cut he became aware of her shoulders shaking, her head still down.

He tipped up her face but her eyes were shut tight, her mouth in a thin line. Yet he could see the track of a tear down one cheek. Something moved within him, and instinctively he rubbed it away with a thumb.

His mouth went close to her ear and he whispered softly, "You're such a crybaby."

She shook her head jerkily, her jaw tight with tension against his hand. And as Itachi looked down at her face all his thoughts scattered in an instant. His hand cradled her head, threaded through the strands of her hair, and loosened it so that it fell in a heavy mass down her back.

Then his fingers were hovering at the corner of her mouth and Tenten's heart skipped a beat as her startled gaze swept over his beautiful face. She couldn't help the instinctive betrayal of all she had meant to hide as his head dipped—as if he was about to kiss her—and her pulses began to race.

Their breaths mingled—there was a hint of whiskey in his—and the shock of it disabled all her defenses.

Suddenly the atmosphere was seething with tension. At that point, she was made terrifyingly aware of the swelling tightness of her nipples inside her bra—yes, she was actually wearing one—and the twisting slide of sexual awareness low in her pelvis. It shocked her that a man she hated so much could have such a powerful effect on her body.

But he didn't kiss her, of course he didn't. Why should he, when he said he wouldn't—when he had Konan for that? She reminded herself grudgingly.

He shoved her aside and drawled with a roughened edge to his dark deep voice that vibrated through her like a jamming wireless signal. "You know what has to happen tonight don't you?"

As she tore her attention from the face that haunted her dreams and her gaze dropped, Tenten could not help noticing the distinctive masculine bulge that had disturbed the perfect fit of his trousers.

Her cheeks flamed as hot as a kettle on the boil as she was both mortified by that reaction and burned by it at the same time.

The pain of the realization that whatever happened between them henceforth would only be physical, that it was without emotion tore through her like a searing flame, burning through her heart.

What was she thinking of? Had she taken leave of her senses? She couldn't do this.

"Don't remind me," she grouched and busied herself with tending to the stove. "Are you hungry?"

"For your food or you?" he asked in a soft, husky laugh and she was struck dumb by his outrageous question.

Before she could even get her head around it, never mind retort, one strong hand spanned her waist and the other reached to switch off the stove.

With her feet dangling in the air, she instinctively reached out and grasped his broad shoulder to steady herself.

Her shocked gaze met the glittering intensity of his night-black eyes and her heart lurched in panic. Her position had become perilous, she realized, swallowing hard. His hands were burning into her waist, and her breathing was suddenly erratic.

"Have you been drinking?" red-faced with embarrassment and something more she refused to recognize, Tenten tried to wriggle free.

"So?" he had the audacity to ask.

"The rules said that—" she argued.

"Forget about the rules," he moved and somehow instead of his hands on her waist one long arm held her clasped firmly against his big body. His other hand twisted in the waving mass of her hair, tipping her head back. "Things have changed."

She stared at him like a mesmerized mouse. "How so? And put me down!" Tenten demanded.

She saw his dark head lower for the second time in as many minutes. He couldn't—he wouldn't kiss her. Even as her own lips trembled in expectation of his kiss, she knew he wouldn't.

"I don't want you to be bad investment," his firm lips brushed the tender skin of her throat. "I figure I would have to change my approach in order to prevent that."

The warm moist flick of his tongue seared her skin, sending a starburst of tiny tremors racing along every nerve in her body. His sensuous mouth closed over the suddenly racing pulse in her neck and paused to suck lightly before trailing a string of kisses up her throat in a slow, seductive path to that spot behind her ear.

"Stop it Itachi, you're drunk," Tenten choked and tried to resist but a warmth was already beginning to unfurl in the centre of her being. "I can't take you seriously when you're like this."

"Getting you pregnant is something I take very seriously," he said with implacable determination in his tone. It resonated through every cell in her body. "And you should too. The sooner you give me an heir, the sooner we'll be out of each other's ear."

Surely he could not possibly mean that they should go to bed here and now?

She swallowed hard when his hand slipped down and drew her into the hard heat of his lower body. Crushed against him, she felt the rigid length of his masculine arousal against her churning stomach and felt her own desire making itself felt in the dampness between her legs.

She panicked, and, lost for adequate words, she shoved her hands against his chest and began to struggle like a deranged idiot.

His eyes narrowed and what glowed there should have terrified her. It was lust. Hot. Hungry. As though the thought of her fighting him had ignited a flame he had no intentions of dampening. But then it was successfully masked and he lowered her to the floor.

"There's no need to be nervous."

"I am not nervous," Tenten stated with a shrill and desperate stab at dignity as she fought to straighten her clothes. "But I'm afraid I'm not exactly sold on your pretence of being human for five minutes—"

Confident hands closing over her rigid shoulders. "Your heart is thumping wildly," he told her huskily.

A warm palm curved against the pouting swell of her breast and she trembled at that light yet possessive touch, her eyes involuntarily fluttering on a tide of sexual awareness so powerful that her legs threatened to buckle beneath her.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Itachi ran a caressing finger along the tense compression of her soft, full mouth.

His brilliant eyes shimmered over her, mesmerically sentencing her to stillness.

"I-I-Itachi," she stammered, eager for—her body always humming for his touch—and afraid of him.

With the tip of his finger he pressed apart her lips and gently probed the moist cavern within while she stared up at him, lost in those compelling eyes of his and her lips curved round that finger, laving it with her tongue.

He smirked.

"I suppose you have a right to be afraid," he whispered provocatively. "Consider yourself lucky it was me you tried your trick on the other day. Another man might not have had my control, and then you would have gotten a hell of a lot more than you bargained for."

A tremor slithered down her spine, and he noticed.

Catching her hand, he forced it down to his thighs. She was shocked to feel his arousal against her hand and to her shame involuntarily her fingers flexed on him.

"Stop that," she cried, snatching her hand free and stepped back, her face a fiery-red. "I'm sorry for how I behaved, and I apologize if you feel you have been cheated," Tenten offered.

She knew she wasn't blameless, and he had some justification for being furious over what happened but damn it, he deserved it.

"You can make up for it," he said simply and shrugged those broad shoulders.

"How so?" she asked thickly.

"I'll show you."

She looked up into his eyes and what she saw nearly melted her on the spot.

Tenten couldn't breathe. She didn't want to breathe. As if they had a mind of their own her hands gripped his shoulders as he brought a hand to her bottom and lifted her against him. She could feel her body catching fire—tingling with expectation because, oh yes. Tonight was really happening.

And she didn't even want to stop it, didn't think she had the will to.

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**A/N: Apologies for the absence. I had a virus on my laptop and it apparently ate my 'Help Wanted' folder so I couldn't access the chapters. I completely forgot that I had them backed up on my Google Drive hence why this went un-updated for so long. I will resume my weekly updates, sorry for the fuck up. **

**I don't even know what to think of this chapter, ugh. The pace of this story is so annoying but it's speeding up I suppose. Thank you for your patience and words of encouragement. It means more to me than you'll ever know. Reviews are always appreciated. It makes it twice as worth it :)**

**Thank you for reading.**


	20. The Fall

**Help Wanted**

**Chapter Twenty – The Fall**

**Dedicated to TotTyrer**

**Reader's Discretion is Advised [Mature Content]**

* * *

**"This is the way we fall. First we lose our balance, teetering precariously on the edge of uncertainty, until, mercilessly, gravity takes over. You can't outshine gravity."**

– **Cassia Leo**

She wanted to fight but for the life of her Tenten could not make herself step back from him—could not command her voice to deny him. All she could do was stare into those brilliant black eyes and drown in the sensual, erotic heat that surrounded her.

"You're frightening me," she told him weakly.

Itachi's strong hands curved over her shoulders and he stared down at her, his firm lips curling in a knowing, sensual smirk, all confident, virile male. "On the contrary I'm doing quite the opposite."

As he nuzzled against her ear, heat and searing need flashed through her senses. But it was his colossal conceit that finally got through to her and she was instantaneously contemptuous.

"Don't try to be cute," she hissed like a spitting cat and shoved him hard in the chest, catching him unawares and ducking free from his hands.

His face darkened, all traces of humour vanishing. "It is a little too late for outraged virtue," he drawled derisively, his dark eyes narrowing on her red face. "Physical innocence is all you have."

Tenten's eyes widened in confusion on him. "What is that supposed to mean?" she screeched.

"Don't you already know?" he declared throatily, looped an arm around her waist and deftly steered them out the kitchen. "You have a very short memory. Shall I drag it for you?"

Of course, he was talking about what had transpired in his office a few days ago.

"I would not have done that if you hadn't—" Tenten swallowed and stuttered to a stop. "—if you hadn't teased me like that," her eyes blazed up to his, her voice scathing.

The shame and rage burnt inside her like a trail of lava seeping from her soul. She clearly would not be living down that moment any time soon.

"And you're lucky I decided to take advice from that damn book rather than slit your throat like I originally intended."

He laughed—a low, husky sound. "You amuse me."

And aroused him too.

"Would you really kill me over something you keep running away from? You're going to hurt my feelings if you keep rejecting me, Brownie." His lashes lowered, the heat in the glitter of his gaze seared her senses.

"You would have to have feelings first," she retorted dryly.

No man, with any sense of what emotions were—or what a conscience was, could possibly live with himself after what he had done to her. That was, take everything she was and not even allow her the chance to fight for it.

"Where are you taking me?" she demanded.

"To my room."

The breath stilled in Tenten's chest and her heart constricted at the proclamation. But she wasn't going to bother argue or refuse him. Tonight was inevitable. Still, she needed to get tonight out of the way, for her own peace of mind and sanity.

"Come on." He held his hand out to her.

Tenten couldn't force herself to take it. She couldn't allow herself to touch him. Because she wanted him. She wanted him in spite of the fact that she was being manipulated. She wanted him in spite of the knowledge that she was being used.

Her mind was made up.

Slowly, his hand lowered and he stalked off, glancing back only once to see if she was following.

While she was breaking apart inside and didn't know why—while she ached for him as she had never ached for anything in her life, Tenten followed.

Before she was entirely certain what was happening, she heard the door to Itachi's bedroom slammed shut behind her and found herself being pulled around and hauled against his chest.

"You are mine," he growled, shocking her. "I own you."

There was possessiveness in his voice. The low, primal growl held a vein of pure, determined ownership that at once pricked her independence and pulled at the girl who longed to belong—

To something. To someone.

He gripped her hips, ground himself against her. "Don't forget that."

Tenten gasped out, fighting against the slow relaxation of her body against his, the needs swamping her. "Then show me, please."

She was confused by the intensity of it—wasn't even sure if she had been the one to have spoken those words. Her breathing was rough, but so was his. She could hear the throb of desire in it, the same as it throbbed through her body.

Briefly she wondered what it would be like to kiss him and licked her lips, suddenly desperate for the answer though she knew it would never come.

"I intend to," his lips were so close to hers now that she swore she could almost feel them against hers.

Every second that she felt the heat of his chest sinking past their clothing to the sensitive, peaked hardness of her nipples, she could feel the flesh between her thighs growing wetter.

She wanted him.

She had never wanted a man in her life.

Until Itachi.

"Don't do this," she suddenly whispered as her fingers curled against the powerful muscles of his chest, desperate to keep herself from ripping at his body.

"Don't do what?" His free hand cupped her face, his thumb brushing against the plump curve of her lower lip. "Don't do what Brownie?"

Oh, he knew what.

She feel it whipping through the air and torturing them both with the hungry need for it. As her tongue swiped over the painful dryness of her lips, it licked over the tip of his thumb. The sudden, explosive taste of salty male flesh rushed through her senses, overtaking them for one destructive second.

"Don't tease me—" Her breathing hitched painfully—desperately.

She couldn't bear it. To be played with. To ache and want, to hunger for something and have no name to give what she hungered for.

"Tease you?" His voice was suddenly rougher, grating as he wrapped one arm around her back and pulled her closer. "This isn't a tease Brownie. I promise."

Tenten shuddered, then cried out when his head lowered. His lips went to her neck, his teeth scraping over it in a slow, dangerous gesture.

He seemed to love that spot, she idly reflected. No surprise there, vampires always targeted the neck. But this one wouldn't feed on any blood he drew tonight, his only interest was to suck out her soul. Judging from how responsive she was to him, Tenten would like to think that he was already halfway to achieving his goal.

She was shaking. Her hands gripped his powerful arms and she stared at the ceiling in dazed rapture as his tongue swiped over her skin.

The moist roughness, the sandpapery rasp had her going to her tiptoes, silently demanding more. Her head tilted further, exposing the vulnerable curve of her neck.

He licked across her skin again, and she cried out.

Desire spread through her body, clamouring for more, burning away any objections she could have made. It burned through her in ways she couldn't have anticipated. It sizzled across her flesh, sensitizing it, creating a receptive base for each touch he should deign to stroke across it.

And she wanted each touch.

Every single one of them.

His teeth nipped at her skin briefly and a growl emanated from his chest as one hand moved from her hip to below her breast.

He was close, so close to the torturously swollen mound, the throbbing nipple. She whimpered, pressing against him caring only about the primeval response of her body to his.

Itachi's mouth moved from her neck to along her collarbone, licking as he weaved a path back to the scooped collar of her shirt and the rise of her throbbing breasts.

Tenten was burning alive for his touch. Her nipples hardened further, jutting against the soft material of her shirt—desperate for the warmth of his mouth. If he didn't touch them, if he didn't suck them deep into his mouth she was going to explode. Oh God, if he did, she would explode anyway. She was close, so very close to the unknown that it terrified her.

She felt the bottom of her shirt jerked upwards and pulled quickly above the swollen mounds. Her nails bit into his shoulders, confusion, desire, fire tearing through her.

The pressure of her bra against the sensitive nipples was almost agony, so she took it off. It was long established that it wasn't the fabric she wanted touching her. It was his hands, his fingers. She wanted the feel of his flesh against hers creating that roughened, electric pulse of sensations that raced across her skin.

"Tenten?" His voice whispered the confusion churning in her body, but even as it did his hand moved, cupping her breast.

The dry heat of his flesh against hers had her hips arching in desperation. His thigh slid smoothly between her legs, allowing her the minute release of riding the hard muscled thigh pressing between hers.

It felt so good.

She throbbed and ached painfully at the friction she created as she rode him.

"What?" Tenten's cry was a shocking mixture of fear, overwhelming need, and questioning desperation as his mouth covered the hard nipple that rose pleadingly from her breast.

His tongue rasped over the hard flesh, the texture of his tongue was rough but incredibly gentle, deeply erotic. He suckled her, laved her, then nibbled at the flesh as she writhed on his thigh, moaning, begging for release.

"I can't do this to you," Itachi pulled back from her with eyes glittering with lust and confusion. "I can't do this."

"What?"

He jerked her shirt back over her breasts, restoring order to her clothes, if not her senses.

"Get out," he pushed her away and began to pace the floor. "Get out now."

Tenten shook her head. It wouldn't stop. The pulsing, throbbing need was only intensifying. She didn't care what was bothering him. "You said you wouldn't do this again," she gasped, shaking her head.

Itachi paused, turning to her. "Wouldn't do what?" he frowned.

"You said you wouldn't stop," it was all the throwaway nonchalance that she could muster while she fought for control. Anger shot through her. She could barely breathe now for the emotions surging through her, for the hunger and the aching need for the return of his touch. "Don't stop now."

He came to stand before her, staring into her eyes, frowning at whatever he saw there.

Oh, she wasn't having this.

She wanted him until she felt like throwing herself back into his arms. But as he stood there staring at her, his expression dominant, full of arrogance, she just wanted to kick him instead.

"What is wrong with you?" he growled, his fingers lifting to her forehead as though checking for a fever.

"What is wrong with me?" she echoed, gritting her teeth against his touch. "So because I'm finally giving in—because I'm finally agreeing to hold up my end of the bargain—because I actually want you, there's something wrong with me?"

She ignored the shock in his expression.

He tilted her head, his gaze going over her neck, then he jerked her shirt up again, examining her breast. "You do?"

Tenten looked down, goggling at the sight of the love bite that marred her nipple.

She moaned as his thumb raked the hard flesh. She heard Itachi's low moan an instant before he covered the other peak with his mouth again.

"Yes."

Her nipple felt brutally hot. Too sensitive. The pleasure flaying the tip with merciless strokes tore through her senses and jerked her into a realm of such pleasure she felt tortured by it.

Her hands went to his hair, holding him close as his tongue stroke her gently—as his mouth drew on her tightly.

She squirmed against him, moving her body lower, wanting to press herself tight and hard against the bulge that threatened to burst the seams of his trousers.

She had to get closer. It wasn't enough.

She moaned and rubbed herself against the hard muscle of his thigh as her hips tilted to him. As he lifted her closer, his hard thigh pushed further between hers as he pulled her hips down to it and moved rhythmically against the sensitive, wet flesh.

Even through the soft cotton of her shorts she could feel the rasp of the material of his trousers, the fiery warmth of his flesh and she wanted more. So much more.

She felt so empty.

She swore she had never actually felt the inner flesh of her and the loneliness it felt. But she felt it now. It clenched and tightened and moisture eased from it, creating a teasing friction that only amplified the need for more.

Itachi yanked her blouse over her shoulder. It fluttered to the floor as his hand moved to the small button and zipper on her shorts. Within seconds, it too slid to the floor, leaving her clad only in only her underwear.

"Oh God Brownie," he whispered as though tortured. He stripped his shirt, his gaze never leaving the sight of her. She was paralyzed by the intensity of his gaze as he subjected her to a slow, raking appraisal. For what seemed an age he just looked at her.

As he jerked the shirt over his lean, well muscled stomach, Tenten's hands went to the belt of his pants, fumbling, shaking as she released it and pushed it aside from the metal tab.

God, how she had longed for this feeling over the years—the excitement and fear, the anticipation and the trepidation caused by the unknown instead of a smack across the face or a kick to the midsection.

She had never known hunger like this. Hell, she had never known hunger for a man, full stop.

Until now.

As the metal tab and zipper gave way beneath her fingers, Tenten slowly shook her head.

"There's no way—" She had to swallow past the dryness that attacked her mouth. "—you simply will not fit." And that wasn't her virginity speaking, she had discerned for herself from the first time she had seen him that his size might be an issue.

"I don't think we're going to have a problem with that," he assured her. "The problem will be stopping once I get inside you." His expression was so tight, so intense that once more she felt that punch of reaction to her stomach. "I haven't been with a woman in years."

The knowledge both pleased and terrified her. It meant that he would unleash everything he had to live without on her.

He swung her up into his arms and she locked her arms around his neck. There was only a pause. It lasted long enough to find herself flat on her back across the bed, staring up at him in surprise.

In one second flat he'd shed his jeans and moved over her. Bracing himself with one hand, he hooked the fingers of the other in the band of her panties. With a quick jerk, he ripped the delicate lace from her hips.

Her gasp of shock was followed by a tumultuous cry as in the next breath Itachi had her thighs spread and his tongue raked through the swollen folds of her, sliding around the tortured ache of her bud.

If he had seen the mark above her hip, he gave no indication.

Her hands went to his head, sliding through his hair before clenching a handful of strands with a desperate grip.

His tongue rasped through the slit of her lips from bottom to top. Slow, sliding, erotically rough and so hot she felt her flesh melting. His hard hands gripped her thighs, holding them apart when she would have clenched them around his head.

"Oh God," The strangled cry was filled with an agonizing need for release. Tenten's hips lifted, grinding against his lips as her release remained just out of reach.

Each fiery brush of his tongue against the over sensitized bundle of nerves had her screaming breathlessly, her hips jerking, driving the overheated flesh harder against his lips as she begged for release.

She almost screamed when his fingers, thick and hot entered her. Itachi gave no quarter. Primal hunger and male dominance filled each touch, each primitive growl that rumbled in his chest.

"Please." She tightened her fingers in his hair and lifted her hips as a strangled cry of aroused fury left her lips when his hands clamped on her thighs, holding them open, holding her still. "Chi—achi—tachi—Itachi. Oh God."

She heard her scream as the pleasure burst inside her. Desperate, hard, her hips bucked and she felt herself dying. Her climax was like a tidal wave, tearing through her, shaking her body, shuddering through it, destroying her as she held tight to his hair, praying for some anchor to hold her to earth.

It was never ending, hot pulsing relief spasmed through her centre.

Before Tenten had any presence of mind what was happening to her, hard hands caught her beneath her knees, bending them, pushing them back as Itachi knelt before her.

She lifted her hips and glanced down at the width of the heavy length tucking between the folds of her. Slowly, her gaze lifted to his again.

"Are you sure?" he asked thickly.

"Yes. Yes. Just do it," Tenten said breathlessly as if he were talking in a foreign language.

At the same time, her gaze widened at the pulse of his length against her entrance, the feel of a heated fluid spurting against the clenched tissue inside bringing a shocked gasp from her lips.

"Itachi?" She trembled beneath him, her hands clamping to his powerful forearms as an electric tingle began to emanate through her.

"It's okay." The sound of his voice was a rough, sensual rasp.

Then he pressed forward.

The burn of the erotic stretch had her breath catching, because the pleasure of it was incredible. Sensual.

Then suddenly she let out a yelp of pain that could have woken the dead and then sank her teeth vengefully into a hard, muscular shoulder.

Itachi cursed and flinched into sudden stillness. The width of the wide crest was barely inside her, throbbing, heated. The inner tissue fluttered around him as she struggled to accept, to adjust to the invasion.

As the level of agony subsided to a dulled but still perceptible throb, Tenten unclenched her teeth and looked up at him accusingly.

"Are you okay?" he rasped, black eyes expressively awash with guilty, angry bewilderment as he snatched in a ragged breath.

Incredibly touched by the look of bemusement in those magnetic dark eyes, Tenten's tension gave. "I forgot to expect it, that's all."

His dark, tousled head swooped down, the tender, seductive caress of his mouth feathering against her forehead in silken persuasion of the cruelest kind.

"I'm sorry. You got me a little carried away," he confided with a sinuous, slow and infinitesimal shift of his hips that sent a rise of reawakened pleasure travelling through her startled body.

A heavy throb of the crest preceded another spurt of the silky fluid, as though he was already finding his release, though she knew it wasn't possible. His body was hard and tense above her and whatever release it was, like the one before it, it seemed to sink inside the inner muscles of her, easing it, heating it.

"Oh God." The involuntary clenching of her around him was followed by the most incredibly arrowing sensation as it shot straight to her bud.

Shuddering, she stared up at him, gasping, fighting to breathe as another spurt filled her again and he sank deeper inside her.

Heat began to bloom through her body. The stretching of her inner flesh, the slow pleasured pain of each bold inch of his length filling her, had her body humming with such nearing ecstasy that she was crying out with the intensity of it.

OoOoOoOo

Itachi fought for breath, for control. Tenten was painfully tight and hot around him, her muscles gripping him like a slick, velvety fist.

Control.

He had to fight for control. He had to control the raging lust that demanded he took a hard, fierce ride out of her.

She was tossing beneath him, her hips bucking, driving him harder into the soft flesh, grinding against him. "Good God Itachi."

Gritting his teeth, he eased back, wanting to scream himself at the incredible pleasure from the friction of her flesh against his. His length so sensitive it was nearly unbearable.

Tenten squirmed beneath him, fighting for breath, her entire body damp with perspiration

He thrust inside the tight depths of her, groaning on every stroke at the tight heat clasping him. Her tender flesh was driving him insane with the pleasure it washed over his body.

It had been far too long since he'd taken a woman to bed, he conceded. It was the only explanation as to why a virgin body would feel so sophisticated—so amazing to him.

He gritted his teeth against the sensations as he braced his body over Tenten's. She was bucking against him, her head twisting against the sheets of the bed, arching desperately, begging for release.

"Itachi—" Her plea was a hard gasp, a breathless moan as her eyes rolled over into the back of her head, her nails biting into his skin. "Oh God. You are killing me."

His sharp growl at the added sensation surprised him. He drove against her harder, deeper, one hard hand spanning her hip as he held her still, the other under her shoulders, arching her breasts to his devouring mouth. Her nipple was hard, succulent.

He couldn't get enough of her—would not ever, after tonight.

He had felt the tearing of her innocence, felt the helpless male pride rising inside him, and had a moment to feel a glimmer of amusement at it.

She was a woman now. His woman. She was no longer that little girl. No longer Sasuke's girl.

He had staked his claim.

The grip of her tightened to the point that he swore he couldn't hold back his release another second longer.

She was killing him.

"Itachi," she cried as though he were the only anchor in her world. "Don't stop."

And she was his anchor.

She was more than his surrogate—more than just a girl thought to be the figment of his brother's imagination.

The moment he realized who she was, what she was to him, she had begun stealing his heart. She was more than he deserved.

She was getting close. So damned close. And so was he. He could feel the white hot fingers of fire moving down his spine now.

Then all hell broke loose. He slammed inside her, deep, hard, as he felt himself rake across the silken flesh of her walls, the area of the elusive g-spot.

His thrusts became hard jerks in fear of tearing her, hurting her. But the pleasure—the pleasure was unlike anything he had ever known. It wrapped over the head of him like tiny fingers of paradise, at the same time he heard Tenten scream.

Her body arched, her eyes widened, she stared at him in dazed, wild hunger for a second before her orgasm hit.

She clenched around him, the action making her so tight and hot he could do nothing but follow her. His released guttural growl and each movement had Tenten crying out. Her orgasms lengthened as he came inside her.

She was breathing hard, crying now, her head tossing with the extremity of her pleasure before his own began to ease.

"Oh God." Tenten was still trembling. Her cheeks were wet with sweat and tears as she gasped for breath. "Itachi."

"Brownie," he whispered the endearment gently as he eased her into his arms, lying beside her, his hand smoothing down her damp back. "Are you okay?"

Her breath hitched, one hand clutched at his back, the other around his neck.

"Did I hurt you?" He was terrified that perhaps he had, and was unaware of it.

She shook her head against his chest. A weak movement as her tongue stroked over his skin.

Itachi took a deep, careful breath after that small caress. He was still hard—that was what years of abstinence did to him—he could easily take her again, but he feared for her. She was virgin, and there had been little gentleness in him when he had slammed inside her tender body.

She whispered against his chest.

"What?" He moved back, staring into her dazed, distressed eyes. "What did you say?"

"Can we try that again?"

He was numbed with shock as his thumbs wiped the tears from her eyes. She still wanted it—wanted him.

"Whatever you want."

She looked so worn-out that it worried him, but he couldn't ignore her need anymore than he could his own. He turned her unto her side, brought her leg over his as he tucked her buttocks against him.

"Yes. Like that," Tenten gasped as he re-entered her, stretching her, sliding in deep. The tight clasp had him gritting his teeth at the renewed pleasure.

"You feel so good," he murmured as his fingers went to the swollen bud of her and massaged it gently.

He nibbled at her earlobe, loving the sharp intake of her breath, the way she thrust back at him.

"So do you," she groaned, shivering at the feel of his lips against her neck.

He licked the soft flesh just beneath her ear, loving the little gasps she made. "Too good."

"Oh God. Ahh—" A plea stole from her as he felt the shivers working through her.

"Does it hurt?" He was terrified that he had been wrong, and she was in pain all along, despite begging for it again. "Tell me if it hurts you. I'll stop."

He buried his head in her damp hair. God help him if he was hurting her. God help them both.

"What is it?" she asked, almost as if she hadn't heard him the first time.

Itachi couldn't control it. His hips began to thrust himself harder inside her.

"Does it hurt you?" he demanded again, gritting his teeth and fighting for control—the restraint to not fuck her in the manner that he truly wanted to.

Like an animal.

"No," she cried out, her hand moving to grip his slamming hips.

He pushed her to her stomach, moving behind her, instinct guiding him now, the pulse of pleasure overtaking his mind. Spreading her thighs wide he slammed his hips into her buttocks as he drove deep and hard inside her.

He felt her knees buckle beneath her.

In the back of his mind, he was appalled and ashamed at his actions, but helpless in the face of the frenzy overtaking him. He'd worry about what he had done tonight in the morning.

He powered inside her, over and over.

Tenten was pure sensation. A second orgasm ripped through her, detonating with a force that would have left her screaming if she'd had the breath to do so.

All she could do was hold on.

In the midst of ecstasy, she swore she felt herself looking down, so deep inside herself that she was shocked. Shocked to see the core of her woman's spirit flaring outward—the one Obito had crushed—opening and accepting.

And assuring her she belonged to Itachi.

Belonged to him with such a terrifying singularity that she wondered if she would ever recover from. Belonged to him as she hadn't even belonged to herself.

Then she was still. Slowly, the inner muscles unlocked and Itachi felt his own arousal begin to subside minutely. Her body became pliant, relaxed and he knew that either sleep or unconsciousness claimed her.

Panting, he laid beside her. Jerking sheet and comforter from the foot of the bed, he covered them both.

He tucked her body close to his, despite being against cuddling after sex and breathed in her scent, her warmth.

"Mine," he whispered the word as his grip tightened on her. The claim terrified him.

Tenten snuggled closer, it was all she could do to keep herself from agreeing with him.

The only thing that stopped her was the sudden fear that in this moment, she wasn't even herself. The fear that after this moment, she would simply live for this. For his touch.

For the kiss that may never come.

For his possession.

For the certainty that this man and this moment, had changed her in ways she would never know.

Never comprehend.

* * *

**A/N: An entire chapter of smut? Sorry. It gets more passionate as the story progresses. The tone is a bit raw for the time being because the sex means very little to either of them **_**(or so they may think…who knows?) **_**I can assure the other lemons are not all chapter long in length ;) This one was rather annoying. Anyways brace yourselves for some serious "What the fucks?"**

**Thanks for reading. I had exams so this update is late, sorry. Reviews are always appreciated.**


	21. The Reveal

**Help Wanted**

**Chapter Twenty-One — The Reveal**

**Dedicated to 8ouji-Rui**

**Reader's Discretion is Advised [Mature Content]**

* * *

"**You can't explain your life: you have to reveal it."**

— **Debasish Mridha**

Itachi rolled unto his back and carried Tenten along with him, holding her against his chest. He had never known a woman like her—so instantly responsive to his slightest touch. Over the years sex had always been a mere exercise, with a like-minded woman, who understood that it was simply for physical release. But with Tenten it had been different.

He still couldn't believe she had been a virgin. But now, in a totally proprietorial way, he found enormous satisfaction in knowing he had been the one to propel her into true womanhood. And he was oddly protective because of the said notion. A notion that had him struggling to come to terms with the wreck it left on his emotions—his senses.

His very soul.

"Are you alright?" he asked, smoothing the hair from her forehead with a hand that was not quite steady.

This is hours after they had slept and woke.

He had lost a little of his control that second time around—and he was a big man with everything in proportion. Maybe he had hurt her. "Are you?"

Tenten lay against his chest and listened to his heartbeat beneath her cheek. She heard his question, felt his hand in her hair, but didn't look up. She couldn't, she was still throbbing internally. Her body felt heavy, but her head in contrast felt quite light with wonder at what had actually taken place.

Now that the tremors had finally subsided, and she relaxed into a lazy lethargy with the musky scent of sex all around them, she was slowly beginning to recall her own eager, almost brazen actions, her rash words and she was embarrassed by them.

She must've truly taken leave of her senses.

"Tenten," he said her name with a softness that was more threatening than shouting. "I asked if you were okay."

She had to face him some time, she reasoned and sat up. She found the sheet, drew it up to hide her nakedness and casted him a sidelong glance. He had even left the light on, and somehow that only seemed to add to her shame and humiliation.

He laid there, a perfect picture of the satiated male, with about as much sensitivity—to her prudishness—as a brick wall. But she had not the strength to be angry; instead a blessed numbness enveloped her and, with what little self-esteem she had left, Tenten forced herself to speak.

"I'm alright," she murmured.

Slowly, Itachi sat up. Naked and unashamed, he turned his dark gaze on her. "Just alright?"

"Yes. Just alright," she answered firmly.

"Just alright," he echoed disbelievingly, dark eyes flaring with anger as he rolled off the bed.

"What?" Tenten blinked in confusion, but he was already striding across the room, totally at ease with his naked state.

She watched his progress, secretly admiring his behind and broad back. Tall, lithe and pale, he moved like a sleek jungle cat—all hard-packed muscle and sinew, with not a trace of fat on his massive frame.

Incredibly sexy.

Too fucking sexy.

Itachi stood in the bathroom, his hands clasping either side of the basin, his head bowed. The best sex of his life, and he had been damned with _'alright'_.

Not mind-blowing.

Not amazing.

Not even good.

No, he'd gotten _'alright'_—as if to say it could've been better. On top of which he felt slightly ashamed—not an emotion he usually suffered from—because he had left her with no other option than to sleep with him.

Tenten confused and confounded him like no other woman he had known, and for the first time in his adult life Itachi actually doubted his sexual prowess—maybe he had gotten rusty?—but only for a second.

He lifted his head and ran his hands through his hair. She could not have faked her response; he had seen her arousal, her pleasure, heard her breathing hitch as she let that pleasure suffused her. Pleasure and the rapturous feeling of complete union between two people, at one in body and soul.

Itachi splashed some cold water against his face.

It had been her first time, so perhaps she was simply at a loss for words, he reasoned. Having analyzed her reaction to his own satisfaction, he dismissed the niggling doubt he felt and left the bathroom.

"What did I do?" Tenten asked when he reentered the room.

She was laying down again.

Her chocolate tresses were spread across a pillow in a tangled mass of curls, her exquisite body now spread across the white sheet in lax abandon. The sight made him so hot he fancied he might have a heatstroke.

This wasn't just a need, he realized. It was a craving, an addiction.

He willed his feet to stop by the bed and stood there staring down at her. "Are you sure I didn't hurt you?"

It was when she shifted her body that he saw the tan stain. Proof of her innocence. The scarlet stain of her virginity was like a badge of honour, filling him with an overwhelming sense of pride.

And guilt.

Terrible guilt.

"I said I was fine," Tenten grouched.

He continued to stare at that tiny scarlet stain, his chest tightening with emotion. Under difference circumstances he supposed his bachelor days would've been over.

Itachi frowned, confusion knitting his brows at his own thoughts. What the hell did he mean by that?

She flinched away from him when he stretched out by her side and shuddered as his hand rose to sweep a few strands of hair back from her face.

"Are you sure?"

The touch of Itachi's hand on her head caused Tenten to lift her eyes to his. For a moment she could have sworn she saw a look of uncertainty in their liquid depths. But then suddenly an icy touch of reality pierced her dazed mind.

"Am I doing extra-time or can I leave now?" she snarled, sitting up again and crossing her arms over her chest.

To him she wasn't as a woman at all, just a convenient womb, and it would do her some good to remember that.

"Stop asking me dumb questions. I can do without your fake concern. I said it was alright. I am alright."

Itachi tensed, every single muscle in his body went as tight as a coiled spring. "It was alright?"

"You're paying me to conceive your child—" she reminded him with a cold, derisory glance. "—it's not my job to make the experience a riveting one for you. I won't apologize for being bad at this, or giving you less than what you bargained for. What did you expect? I told you I've never done this before."

His face darkened with annoyance. "That wasn't what I was asking, Brownie," he said tightly, snaking his hand out to catch a handful of her hair. "And I said nothing about you being bad."

A delicious little shiver stirred her body at the endearment.

Brownie.

Whenever Itachi used it, it usually meant two things; mockery or arousal.

Their eyes met, and she gasped at the predatory look she saw in his, but it was not fear she felt. It was an atavistic desire.

It was insanity.

It was too much temptation, but it was unlike anything else she had known. This wasn't an urge, nor was it an exertion of control over the fury that sometimes built within her. This was a firestorm taking over her body and her mind.

It was heat and lightning and a demand that Itachi only fed when his lips found her neck and his hands dropped to her waist, lifting her to straddle his thighs.

Tenten fell forward and placed her hands out on either side of him, to stop herself from ending up splayed against his chest. Her hair fell wildly around her shoulders as she looked at him through her lashes, seeing the barely controlled hunger in his eyes.

"What are you doing?" she fought to find her breath, to speak past the clawing, brutal desire rising in her body again.

So quickly? She mused.

And then found that she couldn't speak further, couldn't make anything more intelligent than a long, drawn out cry of blistering hunger escape her throat as his tongue to rake the hardened point of her breast. She could feel the pleasure whipping through her body. Bolts of it speared into her womb and her hands moved to his shoulders, her nails piercing the hard muscles there. She felt his hands running up and down her spine, his great body pressing up into her.

"I'm going to hell for this," he muttered gutturally.

Him and her both.

She was starved for this—this something that his touch held, as though a stroke of his finger alone was a narcotic to her senses. She could barely hold her eyes open, the excitement was raising so high.

A cry tore from her throat as his fingers plucked at her nipples, sending shards of desperate, fiery heat flowing through her body. Itachi was overtaking her again, forcing the pleasure from her body, giving her no time to think, to fear.

Anticipation ratcheted up a notch and she waited with her senses on fire. Tenten was unbearably conscious of his strong hands lifting her hips and she felt his smooth length slid between them, sliding through the highly sensitive folds. A low moan escaped her when he positioned her to accept him.

Shivers caught her and she closed her eyes to block out his dark, compelling gaze.

The reckless desire soared.

"And I suppose you are too," there was a hint of laughter in his voice as the blunt hardness probed her.

She arched her back, sweat breaking out along her spine. Her eyes flew open wide as he working himself inside her with stiff, hard strokes that had her gasping for breath—had a scream building in her throat with no air to let it free.

The next hard stroke sent him deeper, stretched her further. Each breath was a gasping cry. Each inch that sank inside her, another slice of ecstasy she feared she would never survive. Then he pulled back a second before he pushed inside her, hard and heavy, a spearing impalement that let loose the scream building inside her.

Electricity sizzled over her flesh as tremors shook her body. She could feel him inside her; every hard, throbbing, heavily veined inch of him buried to the last depth of her.

She stared at him, gasping for breath, her eyes wide, her hips rocking against him. All she could manage was a single word. "God."

That was what he was.

A sex god.

The white-hot flames of passion grew as he lifted her, twisted her, and bucked beneath her, driving her wild with the force of her need. Tenten was oblivious to everything but his scent, his power, and the achingly exquisite pleasure.

She cried out and shuddered helplessly as her body convulsed around him.

Still he did not stop.

He reared up and without breaking contact placed her legs either side of his thighs. His hands flattened against her back, so her breasts were crushed against the hardness of his chest. She was incredibly driven higher by his almost forceful way of doing so. He demanded and she gave—their bodies locked together in a mutual, desperate, primitive mating.

They groaned, they clawed, and finally he spun her beneath him. He paused and held her once again on the edge of ecstasy, his face a taut, dark mask of rigid control, his black eyes burning into hers.

"More."

Itachi lost his mind. For a second, for one blissful second he thought he could hold on to that control he needed not to ravish her. But that word, that single word, so filled with hungry tore it from him.

He came over her fully, catching his weight on his elbows and began to fuck her with all the driving, greedy desperation he had locked inside his soul for years now.

She was tight. So tight she gripped him like a silken vice, the walls of her dragging over his length and driving him closer and closer to the edge of release.

Her lips opened for him—but he couldn't risk that kind of intimacy—as eagerly as did the rest of her body. He gritted his teeth against the whiplash of sensation that began to move up the base of his spine.

She was close, so close.

He felt it in the way the slick, satin softness of her flexed and rippled around him. Tiny fingers of bursting sensation speared inside the swollen flesh, striking with destructive results to the depths of his soul.

"Please forgive me Sasuke," he prayed silently, emotion surging through him like a tidal wave.

His heart stopped for a second on a particular sentiment that scrambled his brain. He didn't believe in anything he was feeling.

And yet he could not dislodge the fear that assailed him…

Tenten bucked in his arms, her breath strangling past her lips, as he raised his head to watch those incredible eyes as the storm took her. They were wide, unfocused and the brown of them were nearly black as another cry escaped her lips. Her inner walls clamped down on him like the tightest fist as hard, spasmodic shudders began to convulse through her.

Then he felt it.

The rush of her release vibrated against his length as her legs tightened further, her core flexed and released, gripped and sucked at his hard flesh until his head—his heart—his very soul exploded in a release that had a rough, desperate groan tearing from his chest.

On and on it went.

Every pulse of his release inside the liquid heat of her body was like a whiplash of fiery sensation. His hips pressed deeper, determined to spear into the very heart of her womb. And perhaps the one in her chest while he was at it too.

OoOoOoOo

For a long time the only sound in the stillness of the room was Itachi's rasping breath. His head rested on her slender shoulder. Later she would hate him, and berate herself, but right now Tenten hadn't the strength.

"Why?" he murmured, rolling off to lie next to her.

She inhaled deeply and her brow furrowed. "Why what?"

"Why didn't you fight me?"

His words hovered in the air between them and they hurt more than they should have. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them back.

Typical male behaviour.

The pig was blaming her for his lack of control over his hormones, she thought bitterly. And had he forgotten why she was here? The act was nothing more than a biological imperative. So why fight something she was contracted to do—to be?

Naked, she sat up, her body still trembling and drew her knees to her chest. She wrapped her arms around her legs, pressed her cheek to her knees and watched as his breathing steadied, Itachi's own shaking was subsiding slightly.

His eyes were shut but she knew he wasn't asleep. Of course he would need a few moments to compose himself before heading for the shower, where she imagined he would frantically scrub her scent and touch from his skin.

She planned to do the same thing.

"Because I need the money," she told him simply.

"This badly?" he said assessed, his voice terrifyingly tender but his face was like stone.

"This badly?" Tenten stung at his quick condemnation. "You gave me no other choice," she buried her face in her knees and fought to keep the tears at bay. "You blackmailed me."

A tense silence followed her coldly spoken reminder, and Itachi's eyes flew open.

The shock of his hand clasping around her wrist had Tenten raising her head to look back at him.

He looked at her with no discernible expression.

"Why did you need to fake your profession in the first place?" he seemed to admonish her with the enquiry. "There are no records of you ever existing in any database."

Panic flooded her. This was what she feared from the very beginning, that Itachi would grow curious—suspicious even—and started digging.

Had he?

"Konan couldn't find a single piece of information about you," he supplied with a steely tone. "Why are you not traceable?"

That witch, Tenten growled inwardly. Of course, this reeked of her.

"That sure sweetened our deal didn't it? That's why you haven't kicked me out as yet—" she tried to jerk her arm out of his grip but he wouldn't let her go.

"What?" he grated.

She held herself tensely and glared at him. "—because should I bear your child, he or she couldn't be easily linked back to me. That was what you wanted, wasn't it? Complete anonymousity. So what's the problem?"

"Is the surname Momochi even your own?" Dark colour stained in his pale skin, and a flash of naked cynicism lit his eyes.

How much dirt had Konan found on her? And had Itachi been the one to sanction such a search?

Tenten raised her free hand to her mouth, defenseless against the accusation she saw burning in his eyes. This man was so dangerous to her now—in so many ways—but she had to defend herself.

His misconception of her character was so bad since the first day that she knew even if he believed her story about being homeless, being almost raped and subsequently having to endure the wrath of Obito, she'd remain in the gutter in his eyes.

She had nothing to lose, really.

"To be honest, I wonder if I truly own anything that I have claimed as my own," she swallowed the bile and forced on an explanation. "The name Momochi was given to my brother and I when were adopted," she shuddered lightly as she remembered how close Zabuza had come to forcing himself on her.

He had never particularly been fond of her. She was always seen as baggage—a compromise for accepting Haku into his family.

During their time on the streets, Haku would perform odd jobs to earn small change in order to put food in their mouths and the rags on their backs. It was how he met Zabuza. A man thought to have been a blacksmith and owner of a small, store that sold ancient relics and artifacts. On days when Tenten accompanied Haku to the store, she helped him to complete his chores—dusting and polishing the items on the shelves, sweep and take the inventory.

It was through inventory taking that Tenten learned how to spell and write legibly. So, she supposed some good came out of the experience. Still, she had always suspected that something uglier lay behind the reality of a man like Zabuza running such an old but quaint little store.

It stroke Tenten as odd that a store that sold antiques had so many customers—regulars too. The price they paid she understood—ancient relics were expensive—but none of their customers gave her the impression that they were history fanatics or art enthusiast.

Haku's death had put everything into perspective for her.

It had been a _drop _gone wrong.

A drug drop.

Zabuza dealt drugs and Haku was charged with making the drops.

The store merely acted as a middle man in the trading of cocaine, heroin and ecstasy between Konoha and the Mist City. Clients paid for drops via the store and collected their receipts along with consolatory items as proof of payment. Direct exchange never took actually took place on site which would explain why Tenten had never come across anything too concrete. She suspected that the drugs were kept at another location as well because she had cleaned and scrubbed every single inch of the store and never once met up any hidden doors or secret passage that led to anywhere but outside.

Tenten was even more sheltered after they moved in with Zabuza because half the time she was slaving away to turn whatever scraps they had into meals and maintaining the house.

"So you never knew your parents," Itachi surmised with a self-deprecating grimace. It was said more to himself but the concern she felt coming from him did strange things to her stomach.

Pity.

Hurt sliced through her.

She fucking hated pity.

But Tenten supposed it was the closest to caring for her that anyone had ever come. Except for that kind stranger years ago—the little boy who gave her his bento and his favourite bear, she was reminded.

She never forgot his chubby little face or his fervent promise to come back for her. Tenten hung on to that promise until her very last day of residence in the old shop. Then years later, on the day she stumbled upon Obito, she had felt a strange connection to the boy through him—had even imagined him to be that heroic brother the boy had spoken so fondly of.

How wrong she turned out to be.

Tenten shook her head mutely and tried to gauge what was going on in that dangerous mind of Itachi.

"What has that got to do with anything?" she rasped throatily, trying to fend off the memories that threatened to consume her.

"There's something that I need to tell you," Itachi still held her arm, and absurdly she felt somehow protected. It confused her.

Her gaze held his and for a few seconds she saw his heart in his eyes. The bland mask he liked to wear stripped away, his dark gaze burnt with a strange and touching kind of vulnerability that warmed her to her soul.

"I found out about it just the other day when—" he said in an unsteady voice.

The deep, dark, graveness of it sent every nerve in Tenten's body jangling.

Had he found out about Obito?

Tenten sucked in a breath. She couldn't halt the awful memory of that awful man coming closer and closer—the panic as she'd tried to placate him—her search for an escape route. And then he'd reached her, his mouth in a demonic grin, his hands curled into a fist or holding something sharp.

She willed the memory down and shook her head hurriedly.

"Found out what exactly?" she bit out painfully, acknowledging that miraculously she hadn't been a completely ruined woman, despite everything she has been through, until Itachi.

Until tonight.

And it had been her choice.

Somewhat.

Either way, it wasn't a comforting thought.

Itachi frowned suddenly, and his hand tightened. He looked at Tenten carefully. She was avoiding his eyes, but to his surprise in that moment he didn't doubt that the terror he had seen cross her face was real, as if she was reliving something.

He quelled the protective surge that came from nowhere rational. But on the back of that came the heavy sinking weight of realization—he felt for her, sympathized with her.

He couldn't even begin to imagine what it must've been like to grow up without parents. Worse, homeless. And the absolute worst, having to go through all of that as a young girl.

"—when I saw you with that blue teddy bear," he told her and felt her quiver lightly under his hand.

"Mister Chidori?" she whispered hoarsely, confused.

"Yes."

He released a heavy sigh and tried to stretch across to the night-table by her side, but Tenten wasn't going to let him. Quite suddenly, she began to shake violently.

She shook with anger, horror and a soul-crushing self-revulsion that had always made up a large part of her emotional reaction to the life she had lived—and the one being forced on her.

"Relax Tenten," Itachi scolded, trying once more to retrieve the photo frame, but she still wouldn't let him.

"Do not touch me," Tenten said, pushing her head up to gaze into those grim black eyes that seemed so angry now. "Do not touch me."

"Stop being ridiculous," he snapped.

"Please just don't touch me," she cried, her eyes bright, hot and painfully haunted. "The last small piece of myself that I had left, you blackmailed me out of it," she sobbed, her voice lifting to a heart wrenching shrillness as everything dawned on her. "I've finally lost to your family."

She hurt.

She hurt in so many places that she did not know which one hurt the most—her body, still wearing the power of his physical imprint—her brain, grinding against her skull in stunned revelation—her senses, still quivering, not quite knowing what had happened to them, and too shattered by it all even to attempt to regroup.

Itachi said nothing.

He simply sat there; his mouth was clamped shut, his lips drawn inwards so there was barely an outline left on show. His eyes like twin tunnels leading directly to his darkened soul.

He tried to swallow but didn't quite manage it.

Above all, he was trembling—whether he was trembling with appalled comprehension at last, or trembling with anger was difficult to tell.

"You Uchiha men are all the same," tears lay like a film across her eyes, blurring her vision.

"What's that suppose to mean?" he gritted, having been thrown into a mind-numbing confusion by such a declaration.

Then his hand reached out to touch her, and everything—mind, body, shattered senses—leapt upwards and together in a wild dovetailing of panic, sending Tenten rolling from the bed to land, swaying, on her feet.

Itachi was right there with her—steadying her with strong arms. "What is wrong with you?"

For a minute she was silenced by the power of emotion he'd infused into that demand but was soon fighting with him to let her go.

In all her struggle she knocked over the bedside lamp and a picture frame. It met its shattering demise on the floor and in an attempt to retrieve the heavily lamented photograph; Tenten and Itachi painfully bumped their foreheads together.

She beat him to it though.

But the face that stared up at her from the photo made her wish she hadn't.

It was that little boy—same dark eyes, pouty mouth, chubby cheeks and oddly styled hair.

And Itachi.

Next to each other, Tenten finally saw the striking resemblance. She stumbled and fell back a few steps, trembling inwardly.

"Who is this?" she asked.

"That's what I wanted to tell you," Itachi was grim, his eyes knowing. "He's my little brother, Sasuke."

She shook her head, shivering, cold—so cold it struck at the very heart of her. Cold with dread.

Sasuke—Itachi's brother—was that little boy and hence deceased.

A sinking feeling told her this revelation was merely a confirmation of her earlier suspicions. Suspicions that she had dismissed because clearly Itachi—that monstrosity of a man—could not have been the noble brother Sasuke had told her about. Still, it had been due to Obito's likeness to Sasuke that Tenten had trusted the man. And if Itachi and Obito were related...it hadn't been such a stretch after all and the realization made her slightly numb.

She lowered the picture and looked up at Itachi. His eyes were glued to her lowering hand—or so she thought, unmindful of the fact that she was still stark naked—he was frozen in horror.

"How did you get that?" he asked, staring down at the symbol burnt into the flesh of her hip with such abject misery, contrition and despair on his face that she almost felt sorry for him.

She stared into his distressed face.

"Oh God," Tenten gasped, moving to shield the brand mark from his sight with the picture and make a run for it.

But Itachi moved fast and caught her arm, making her gasp—not in pain, but in the contact of flesh to flesh. He whirled her back around and she saw his raised hand.

Tenten reacted on instinct, flinching violently in his hold, ducking her head.

When the blow didn't come, she froze.

An awful stillness descended around them and her breathing sounded unbearably loud.

"Do honestly believe I would hit you?" His voice was horrified.

She trembled but knew that of all things she feared about this man violence was not one of them.

"Please just let me go," she pled shakily.

"Has someone hit you? Why do you keep acting like this?" he demanded. "Is that why you took this job? Are you running away from something—someone? Is that why you need the money so badly?"

He hit the nail on the head but Tenten couldn't understand the feral glitter of his eyes.

She shook her head. "Let me go, Itachi."

His hand gripped her even harder. "Who has been hurting you, Tenten?"

"It's not like you care," she blurted out, wanting to find a way to prevent him from seeing that inner, secretly vulnerable part of her. "Stop asking me all these questions."

No one except for Mr. Hatake knew. It was something she was ashamed of. It was her weakness.

"Tell me."

And then he did something she couldn't counter-attack. He gentled his hold on her and his hand became caressing, smoothing the skin it had held so tightly.

"And how did you get that mark?" he choked out thickly, finally letting her go.

In one swift movement Tenten leapt into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

Itachi could not get that symbol out of his head.

In an instant the awful memory of his parent's murder came back, slamming into his brain. The colour drained from his face as the vivid image that same sign drawn in blood above Sasuke's bed flashed inside his head.

His hands fisted so tightly at his sides that his knuckles grew white. Pain surged anew and twisted inside him, so acute that he had to put a hand to his head.

He couldn't make a connection.

Fortunately or unfortunately Konan could. But it wasn't Konan he spoke to when out of the dull, throbbing silence that powered down after Tenten's departure, his cell phone began ringing somewhere in the room. Itachi thought about enquiring what Hidan was doing over the woman's house at three in the morning but wasn't given the chance to.

"Itachi," the white-haired man said, clearing his throat uncomfortably over the line. "Remember that thing you had asked Konan to look into the other day?"

"Hn?"

"Well I've got good news and bad news," Hidan told him gravely.

An eerie and sudden tension spiked the air.

He listened intently, his dark eyes snapping with irritation but nothing was said.

Itachi's hand tightened around the phone. "Let's not beat around the bush," he raked out hoarsely. Then, "What is it?" he commanded.

"The good news is that you won't have to worry about passing on the Uchiha name to Tenten through marriage like your brother had wanted," Hidan's voice seemed to come from miles away.

"I never said anything about marrying her," he bit out, his emotions hitting an all-time high of helpless confusion. "What are you getting at?"

"Konan and I couldn't find any birth records of Tenten in Konoha, so—" he drawled casually. "—we took a gamble and checked in with a couple hospitals in Suna, since it's a neighbouring city." He then went on to explain that, "There had been a surge in illegal migration for a five year period—during which Tenten was born, so we figured—" his voice tapered off.

There was a paused.

Itachi grunted in comprehension. If Tenten went to live in Konoha illegally then it would explain why there weren't any records of her. But who did she travel with? And she must've been terribly young—a mere baby—so she couldn't have gone there on her own.

"Didn't you say Rin left to go study in Suna?" Hidan asked tensely.

"Yes," he answered coolly. "So?"

"Well she must've had other things on her agenda because that was where Tenten was born," he said in a rush and added slowly after a while. "I guess the bad news is that, she is registered as being born to Nohara Rin and Uchiha Obito."

Itachi goggled.

Tenten?

Daughter of Rin and Obito?

In which case, he supposed the mark above her hip made some amount of sense. It was apparently Obito's signature. He had left it behind in blood after he slaughtered his family.

But.

Daughter of Rin and Obito?

The words echoed over and over again in Itachi's mind.

Didn't that make Tenten his—?

—he couldn't bring himself to even think it.

How had the resemblance slipped him? And why hadn't he taken his brother's words into consideration after he found out who Tenten really had been—to Sasuke at least. He had kept on reiterating that Tenten had been like a miniature Rin during his endless babbles about the said girl.

For a short shocked moment he just stared blankly at the door behind which Tenten had disappeared, before the cell phone slid out of his hand and fell to the floor.

And then the almighty Uchiha himself followed soon after.

* * *

**A/N: For the record, I am not into incest nor do I promote that kind of thing. Take that into consideration before you decide to flame me *cowers in the corner* To ****be honest, I stopped paying attention to this story because I was under the impression that the enthusiasm for it has died (and not just on my end). I think you guys and fanfiction have gotten tired of me :P **

**I would like to thank 8ouji-Rui for the inspiring story. I never thought seeing an update for this fic could have such a positive impact on anyone's mood or mindset. I think it's the highest kind of compliment an artist/author can receive. I would also like to thank SilentMidnight02 for the words of encouragement. You have no idea how much you turned my day around :)**

**Also, thanks to everyone who reads or follows and extra special thanks to those who take the time out to review. They are always appreciated, I love hearing from you. It puts me in good spirits ;)**

**Guest reader Brandon, your review gave me a scare O_o**


	22. The Untold Tale

**Help Wanted**

**Chapter Twenty-Two ― The Untold Tale**

**Dedicated to SilentMidnight02**

* * *

"**There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you."**

― **Maya Angelou **

_The outline of the city behind them began to fade at the precise moment the leaves on trees started to show more green than grey. Distance was all that mattered as Rin covered ground with great galloping gaits that implied the sinew and bone in her ankles had been replaced with coiled springs. Dawn was awaking with a musical silence―a kind of haunting muteness that was lost to the ear and was audible only to the tortured soul. _

_A new day was miraculously upon her, she reflected gratefully. A new leaf to turn over, a fresh page yet to be written―written in her own blood (because what she was doing was definitely not legal). But it was the price she would pay for righting the wrong she did three years ago._

_Since wrapping up her studies in Suna and returning, guilt and remorse ate at her. No matter how hard she strove to look ahead and forget the past, her conscience would taunt her with the memory of it._

_Each time it emerged she would diligently analyze the options that had presented themselves to her and declare her decision―at the time―to have been the right one. It was in hopes that her conscience would be satisfied, but it never was. Like an unforgiving spectre it would return the moment her mind was unoccupied and haunt her all over again._

_She had to do something about it._

_And now even as she did, her conscience was still there. Still questioning whether this decision of hers was taken in self-interest or a genuine desire to correct her mistake._

_Rin was vaguely aware of the stinging sensation in her leg for panic and fear smouldered every other feeling and left her numb (she really could go to prison for this). But where was the logic in arresting a woman for taking back what was rightfully hers―biologically hers?_

_It wasn't until she slowed her pace that Suna's stifling humidity and tiredness began to take wage in the form of her protesting limbs and the thick beads of perspiration that trickled down her temples. Her clothes and hair was slick with it. They clung to her like a second skin―much like the child on her hips. She could feel the small girl's heart trashing wildly against her own breast stone._

"_It's okay sweetie, just a little further," she cooed, raising a thumb to wipe away the sweat that glistened on the infant's brow. "Okay?"_

_There was a sniffle and unintelligible jabber in response. Rin interpreted it for what it was and set the girl unto her feet, kneeling before her._

"_Yes. I am your kaa-san," she choked out. Her lungs felt like they would burst and her throat was dry. _

_They had been travelling by foot for at least eight hours without rest outside of bathroom breaks. Those rarely extended beyond five minutes and that was not sufficient enough time for her to catch her breath._

"_I came back for you. I will never let anyone hurt you ever again," she swore on her grave._

_The child toddled for a while, crushing two of Rin's fingers within her small palm. "Promise?" _

_Her gaze went cloudy as it clashed with the hopeful gleam in that of her daughter's. Something wrapped itself around her heart and squeezed until Rin felt a physical pain in her chest. Her baby must've been the most beautiful child she had ever set eyes on. (And she had seen her fair share of adorable children, working in pediatrics and all.)_

_Everything about her was symmetrical, most obviously her cheekbones, but it extended to the way she smiled and held her body. It was reminiscent of her father. Rin noticed it the first time she laid eyes on the girl back at that cheap motel her foster mother claimed to operate and reside in. Her stomach churned in disgust at the memory of finding her baby living in such horrible conditions. _

_It seemed to her that both the building inspector and social worker had either been bribed to give the woman a passing grade or drunk on the job. The place hadn't looked safe enough or sanitary enough to raise anything besides germs, bacteria and parasites._

_It was one of those sleazy motels where immoral men with some form of substance addiction went to fuck other men's wives and engage in shady dealings or where hookers brought their clients and paid for rooms by the hour. It had reeked of alcohol, cigar and sex―definitely not the kind of environment for a child or anything living for that matter. Rin fancied that flowering plants could pick up STDs from merely using the same air in the photosynthesizing process._

_There hadn't been many plants around, she remembered. Safe for the litter of take-out boxes strewn all over the place, only wild shrubs and weeds grew through the cracks in the concrete path. The entire lot had looked to belong in a junkyard. The pathetic state of the lawn was further emphasized by shards of broken glass and used needles that gleamed amidst the dry grass under the hot Suna sun. _

_One side of the building had been riddled with bullet marks, leaving the surface rough and chipped. It had filled Rin's head with thoughts of her daughter waking up in the middle of the night to gunshots, screams and drunken howls. _

_The sight had hurt. It broke her heart and tore at something she wasn't even certain she recognized. It tore at her sense of justice and her sense of self—and made despair wash over her like long slow waves. No child should ever have to endure such torment so early in life—or ever. She choked back another sob and a pair of hot little hands settled on her shoulders. _

"_Promise?" she repeated painfully._

_The child was close to tears and on impulse Rin drew her close in a comforting hug. "I promise, sweetie," she said with infinite tenderness. "I promise."_

_The scrawniness of the girl jerked at her heart. If she could turn back the hands of time and change the decision she had taken three years ago, she would. If not for the sake of removing her own guilt then for the sake of removing all this grief from her daughter's life._

"_Okay. I believe you kaa-san," she muttered in a small voice, as if she was afraid that an octave higher would alert her foster mother of their location and she would come whisk her away._

_The various burns on her hands that looked to have been inflicted by a lit cigar told tales of their own._

"_Kaa-san?" Rin echoed in awe, locking the moment in memory. She would carry it with her to her death-bed._

_She nodded, brown hair tumbling all over shoulders. "Yes. Kaa-san. I've always wanted a kaa-san."_

_Tears gripped the young Nohara again. She wasn't deserving of such an endearment—wasn't deserving of being placed on such a pedestal. A mother was like God in the eyes of a child and Rin had been nothing but the devil wearing the flesh of one. The reality of it lit an insatiable fire that burnt all the oxygen from her body leaving it listless and empty. She was a terrible mother to have abandoned something so innocent and unaware. But more so a terrible person because that something happened to have been her own flesh and blood._

"_Did you give me this stupid name?" Small brows snapped together in what appeared to be self-condemnation._

_Rin almost laughed, "You don't like the name Tenten?"_

_She shook her head furiously._

"_But it's such a pretty name," she ruffled the girl's chestnut bang playfully. "It means heaven."_

_Tenten's pout did not waver. "That's not what the lady said. She said it meant here-there because nobody wants me so I am always moving around."_

_That aforementioned fire became a thin layer of ice upon hearing that. It cooled her insides, a gentle reminder of the pain that came before and a warning not to stoke that fire again―especially not in her Tenten. _

"_That's not true sweetie. I want you," she said, keeping her voice soft as her breathing hitched on another sob. "I am so sorry that I wasn't there but—" she pressed her lips to Tenten's forehead and the first tear slipped from her eyes. "—but I am here now and everything—"_

_She flinched, apparently not accustomed to such show of affection. "Then why did you leave me?" she asked, cutting Rin off._

_The question caught her off guard but she played it off as best as she could. "Do you want to know why I named you Tenten?" _

_She shrugged uncaringly. It was answers that her little heart desired the most._

"_Your otou-san once said that you were a little bit of heaven that would raise all of hell when you were born―" she told her with a mirthless giggle and scratched at the back of her head. "―especially if our parents were to find out about you."_

"_Tou-san?" Tenten's eyes sparkled with intrigue. They were large and bold, framed with thick lashes, the colour of unvarnished oak with deep mahogany flecks―similar to her own. "I have a tou-san?"_

_Except when Rin thought of mahogany she thought of it as a representation of strength._

_That was the something she had lacked the day she abandoned Tenten at the run-down maternity clinic where she had given birth. On that she would forever be judged but at the time she hadn't a better option. She was in her second year of university—outside her hometown—with no means of supporting herself, let alone a child, besides the small stipend her parents sent to her monthly. _

_Her dreams had been at arm's reach. A baby would've shoved it beyond her grasp. A baby would've shamed her. Parents sent their children to college to return with degrees, not grandchildren. _

_She did what she thought was best for the both of them._

"_What's tou-san like?" Tenten asked, curiosity laced her voice and made it so unbearably sweet Rin felt her tooth ache. "Why didn't he come with you to meet me?"_

_At that, something ate at her chest, tearing its way to her trembling heart. _

_The woods went silent. _

_It was hot and still. Not a breeze stirred._

_Still, there was a twinkle in the child's eyes that was downright heartbreaking and it helped defuse the tension that question provoked. But how was she to break it to Tenten that her father thought she had been stillborn and hence deceased? _

_How?_

_It was the lie that had cemented Rin place in hell. _

_A lie that made her suffer through having to watch him grieve in vain for months. _

_She thought—against her better judgment—that she had been doing him a favour by lying to him. He was too willing to drop out of college and seek underemployment at some Burger joint just so he could pay for formula and diapers. Rin wasn't having any of that, though she knew he would've gladly done it. He would've done whatever it took._

_For their baby at least._

_That small fact had always bothered her because deep down Rin knew Tenten's existence would've blurred her own significance in his life. And at the time she wouldn't have been able to handle that._

"_He's going to be very excited to meet you," she rose to her feet, smiling awkwardly._

_Very shocked to meet you—was more like it._

"_Really?" Tenten gave an enthusiastic squeak and allowed her hand to be taken into the woman's warm ones. "Tell me about him."_

"_What would you like to know?" Rin asked as they resumed their journey, albeit it being at a slower pace._

_Her stomach growled loudly but she grinned sheepishly, "What sorts of food does tou-san like?"_

_Rin paused to raise an amused brow at her. Her little girl really was a trooper. "In keeping with the meaning of his family name he's big on fruits and vegetables," she chortled at the grimace on Tenten's face._

"_He sounds stick."_

"_You mean strict?" she snorted, pinching her cheeks. "How cute you are."_

_Tenten blinked at her. A flush raced over her face and down her neck because she had never been called cute before. _

_Stupid. _

_Useless._

_And Shitface were amongst her list of aliases. _

"_No. Don't be fooled by his love of healthy foods. Your otou-san is quite a closet-delinquent," Rin followed up with another crack of laughter. _

"_What's that?" confusion etched across her chubby face._

"_It means there are many sides to him."_

"_Oh," Tenten idly kicked a rock out of her path. "Nice people like candy."_

"_Remember that when you're dating―" Rin winked._

"_Dating?"_

"―_the sweetest guys are the ones who like sweets. They may act hard on the outside but on the inside they're nothing but chewy goo. Kind of like a lollipop."_

_Tenten giggled, "You're funny kaa-san."_

_Rin hoisted her up on her hip and snuggled her. "You're delightful Tenten."_

_It took then a little under an hour to arrive at a small abandoned town that looked every bit out of place in the rolling hills of yellowing grass―green grass was a rarity anywhere in Suna._

_The old road was barely discernible through the wild flora that had colonized it. Derelict buildings were clustered close together, arranged down a single narrow street. Most seemed to be the residence of wild birds and stray animals._

_Tenten stiffened cautiously. Where the rising sun's rays failed to reach eerie shadows swayed to the steady creak of rotten planks. It sent shivers down her little spine._

_Rin rubbed her back, "My car is just around the corner. Don't worry. We won't be lingering much longer here. This place gives me the creeps too."_

_She closed her eyes and buried her face in her mother's neck, breathing in the scent that she would always remember as that of the first creature to have ever shown her kindness. _

"_I didn't drive it into the city to come get you because I couldn't risk anyone catching the license plate number," she explained._

"_They put you in jail?" Tenten's eyes opened in horror and she lifted her head to stare into the face that was too much like her own for even the blind to deny._

_She received a reassuring smile. "That won't happen."_

_They ventured further into the forgotten town in silence until they rounded a corner. The jingle of keys filled the air, later followed by the sound of a car alarm being disabled._

_Rin settled Tenten in the passenger side of her silver Mercedes and buckled her in safely. "I know you're not supposed to drive in the front seat but I can't bare another second not looking at you," she willed the tears clogging her throat down and tucked some strands behind Tenten's ears. "My beautiful baby."_

"_My beautiful kaa-san," she flashed her a pearly white grin._

_That time the tears did come. _

_Tenten felt them slide down the side of her face at the exact moment she received another one of those forehead kisses._

_It was becoming a rather comforting gesture._

"_Oh come here honey. I love you so much," Rin embraced her, great sobs racking both their bodies as she held onto Tenten. "I'm so sorry for everything that I've put you through." There was a rawness to her voice because the pain was still an open wound. "But I promise you this. I will be the mother you deserved three years ago."_

"_Kaa-san," Tenten touched her shoulder lightly. "I'm hungry."_

"_Of course baby," she eased back, smiled apologetically and opened the compartment directly in front of her. "I stopped by the gas station prior to parking here. I figured you would be hungry by the time I brought you back with me."_

_Tenten stared blankly at the various cheesy snacks, potato chips and other packets of sweet treats; muffins, cupcakes and cookies. "For me?"_

"_I wasn't sure what you liked so I bought a variety," Rin got to her feet. "There's a small igloo by your feet. Help yourself to whatever you like."_

"_Kaa-san," she said almost hesitantly. _

_Her brow lifted. "Yes baby?"_

"_My hair—" she babbled something incoherent but Rin caught the word, "—ponytail." _

_She leaned down and rubbed her nose against Tenten's and the girl's lips parted on a baby laugh. It was the most magical and adorable sound Rin had ever heard, like delicately tinkling bells. When it stopped, she wanted nothing more but to hear it again._

"_How many ponytails does my sweet little brownie wants?" she tickled her side and as the small head tipped back to beam up at her Rin's heart melted with such a surge of love it was painful._

_Tenten held up two fingers. "One for me and one for you."_

"_Two ponytails?" she gushed indulgently and undid her own hair ties._

_She quickly styled Tenten's hair to her liking and stood back to admire her handiwork—both the child and the actual hairdo itself. It was Rin's understanding that Tenten refused to wear her hair in one—so long as mother and daughter were together—because a single ponytail or hair bun would be symbolic of her past._

_Her past loneliness._

_After she secured Tenten's door, Rin made her way to the other side of the vehicle and slid into the driver's seat. For a few minutes she simply sat there—staring at her daughter, marveling at the air of vulnerability that surrounded her—breaking out of the trance only when she was asked to open a packet of chips._

_Tenten was a careful eater, almost fearful._

"_Don't be modest sweetheart," Rin chided lightly. "Stuff your face if you want to. I don't care if you make a mess. In fact, make a mess―" she seemed to plea. "―so I that I'll have to clean up after you―so that I can do something for you."_

_Tenten blushed, "You won't call me a pig?" _

_Rin was taken aback, "Honey why would I do that?"_

_Her silence said it all._

_The car cruised out of town and onto the freeway. The central line that separated east from west bound was nothing but a mere of golden grass―the metal barrier long gone. Tenten leaned back in her seat; surrounded by so much soft leather she could barely hear the sound of the engine. _

"_Does tou-san like music?" she asked half an hour into the ride._

_Rin was so caught up relishing the sound of her baby's soft gulps and the almost reluctant way she crushed the chips beneath her teeth that the question almost slipped by her._

_Instinctively she switched on the radio. The most beautiful jazz filled the car, drowning out the roar of the air conditioning unit. There were no traffic noises for the music to compete with so she kept the volume on low._

"_He prefers the silence. Do you like music?"_

_Tenten nodded. As her lips parted on an articulation—of some sort—she was beaten to it by the very deep and urgent baritone that faded into the music before effectively silencing it._

"_We interrupt this program to bring you breaking news. A three year old girl was just uprooted from her foster home in Dust Ville, Suna by a woman who reported claimed to be her mother."_

_Rin's heart leapt into her mouth at the announcement. _

_It seemed she had underestimated the effectiveness of the communication channel between the authorities and that foster home. She supposed when faced with the threat of a possible reduction in state funding―due to one less foster child―that Tenten's crack head of a foster mother would act quickly._

"_Sources say the kidnapper is of medium built with fair skin, brown eyes and brown hair. The missing girl's name has yet to be disclosed along with any information regarding her attire. She is said to however possess features identical to that of her abductor."_

_So that narrowed it down to every brunette with a daughter, Rin thought wryly. Times like these the unreliability of the media really came in handy._

_There was a kind of static disruption in transmission the closer the drove towards the border._

_A woman's voice broke through the chaos. Rin recognized the drawl immediately. "She just came in, picked up the child and left. No explanation whatsoever―"_

_Rin glanced over at Tenten, who in turn gave her a worrying little glimpse before she returned her attention to the road ahead. "It's so pretty kaa-san."_

_On either side of the highway, the desert appeared to be a vast ocean in the breaking of dawn. Like great ships, the shadowy silhouettes of cactus and perhaps even camels punctuated mountains of sand. And as the car sped past them they truly seem to undulate like giant waves._

_The crackling noises over the frequency cleared up and the woman's voice filtered through the speakers again._

"―_she had a Konohan accent and was far too pale to be a local."_

_Citizens of Suna were usually tanned._

_The reporter went on, cutting the interview short. "Security is being tightened at the border as it is believed that is where the woman is headed. Local officials are asking that you be on the look―"_

_Oh fuck._

"_Kaa-san am I in trouble?" Panic filled Tenten's voice now._

_On instinct Rin switched the radio off and stepped on the gas. The world flew pass them in a blur of gold and brown. The tires hissed over the smooth tarmac_

_Her lashes drifted closed as a pain-filled grimace twisted her expression. "Are you going to leave me again?" tears still slipped down her cheek again—but this time they were hers. "Please don't leave me."_

"_I wouldn't dream of it," she reached out to stroke Tenten's chin._

_In that instant she lost the opportunity to evade the huge camel lying in the middle of the street. Even if Rin had been paying attention she probably would not have been able to make the manoeuver. _

_She barely had time to scream let alone grab Tenten before the air bag knocked her back onto her seat. Her lungs contracted with such force that she fancied they had folded into themselves._

_The world flickered on and off as her flailing arms searched for something to hold onto. Her organs felt like they were being smashed into a tiny box. The car tumbled over and over until it came to a stop. The sound of crushing glass ceased and there was complete silence._

_It terrified her, more so than the pain. Tenten should've been crying out. Her baby should've been making some kind of sound. _

_And yet there was nothing._

_Panicking, Rin tried to move but she was pinned by the collapsed roof to the steering wheel—the air bag long deflated. _

"_Tenten. Sweetheart. Can you hear me?" she forced her voice on, her heart breaking in heaving waves as reality dawned on her. "Tenten?"_

_Her only response was silence._

_Later she would come to learn that the door on the passenger side of the vehicle had been completely torn off and no trace of her little girl could be found._

"_What do they mean no one else was in the car with me?" Rin demanded angrily, jolting upright and immediately regretting it. An arrow of pain stroked down her side. "She was there!"_

_Obito gently eased her back unto the bed and pinned her with skeptic black eyes. "They've searched every inch of that highway and found nothing, Rin. Not even a strand of hair to imply that someone else had been in there with you," he told her grimly._

"_But she was there Obito. Believe me. She was there. I held her. I spoke to her." Overcame by the wave of her emotions, Rin broke down entirely. "She was there. Why won't anyone believe me?"_

"_Seeing as though you've suffered trauma to the head—" Kakashi's grave voice reminded her as he made his way to her bedside. "—it shouldn't be hard to understand why." _

_He stood before her in his magnificence, a coiled spring perfectly contained by his tall, lean body. The challenge of his eyes was replaced by the defiance of his stance._

_Rin began to tremble, her tears washing away any self-control she had left. "She held my hand and slept on my shoulders. How can they tell me that she wasn't there?"_

_Obito held unto her hand and clasped it to his chest, "What were you doing in Suna?"_

"_I went to get her."_

"_Get who exactly?" Kakashi demanded though it was obvious from his tone that he clearly was not really expecting a sane answer._

_She avoided both their eyes, drifting her own pair to the old TV that hung from the ceiling. It was a typical hospital room, sparse and functional—oxygen tank, intravenous drips, heart monitor, furniture frayed by wear and tear, an undertone of bleach and white. _

_Everywhere._

_There was no splash of colour anywhere safe for the coloured liquid soap in the dispenser by the door. _

_The room was white like heaven but was every bit of hell._

_When she finally turned her face to them, Rin was a picture of grief, loss, devastation. "A little bit of heaven that would raise all of hell," she answered hoarsely; certain neither one of them had heard her._

_But Obito had and he gasped both in horror and comprehension. _

"_I heard the news," he told her before lapsing into silence._

_Rin would've nodded if it her head didn't feel like it weighed a ton. "So you believe me?" she pressed softly, hope—desperate, yearning hope—starting to well up in-side her._

_He drew on her name in exasperation, an indication that he didn't or probably didn't know what to believe. _

"_I have to find her," she got up once more despite the biting protests coming from every muscle in her body. "She's out there somewhere. All alone and probably frightened. I have to go get her."_

"_Is she serious?" Kakashi turned to Obito disbelievingly._

"_What if she got hurt?" Rin swung her legs to the edge of the bed, grimacing in pain. "I have to go find her. You'll help me, won't you?" She burst into tears again and almost pitched forward._

_Obito was there to catch her. He held her tenderly, telling her that one day—not today, not tomorrow, but one day—he would._

_Kakashi frowned darkly at the duo and beckoned for a nurse. A young, blushing blonde woman appeared seemingly out of thin air _

"_Restrain her," he prompted coldly._

_Rin gaped, tears still spilling from her helpless eyes. "What?"_

"_She's out of her mind. I'm afraid she might hurt herself," His expression was deliberately bland as he calmly looked at the woman and watched his preposterous command slowly sink in. "Tie her arms and legs if you have to."_

_And yet the face that stared back at Rin was not one of antipathy but rather one who had suffered loss before and didn't know if he could go through it again._

_She didn't wish to be the one to put him through that again and so she let go of the hope she had been holding on to and grasped unto the guilt. Grasped the awful hollowness— the waves of wretchedness, and let them engulf every essence of her being._

_Three years ago a fake death certificate had killed her daughter._

_But today she had—with her own two hands._

_In that moment of realization, the sure knowledge that life would go on without her baby, that time had deservingly only stopped for her, undid Nohara Rin completely._

_OoOoOoOo_

_One minute everything had felt light and Tenten's small frame was flying through the air. Then suddenly she was left limped on the side of the road, from the impact. The car had flipped so many times she became disorientated before she even sustained the concussion that had her drifting in and out of consciousness. _

"_Hey, wake up."_

_She felt herself being shaken and was scarcely aware of the metallic tang in her mouth. Her eyelids fluttered opened but she had not a sense of where she was. All she felt was the pain. So much pain._

_What happened? Where was she? Who was she?_

"_My name is Haku."_

_Large dark-brown eyes peered into her bruised face and for a moment something jolted through Tenten. Whether it was a foggy memory or merely a distorted mental image, she couldn't distinguish. But the long black hair that tickled her face as the person leaned over her erased both notions for some reason._

"_I'm here to help."_

_That voice._

_She didn't know why her heart sank at the sound of it, almost as if in disappointment._

"_What is your name?"_

_It hurt to breathe. Hurt to even speak but Tenten managed to whisper hoarsely― _

"_Little heaven that raise big hell."_

―_because it was all she had managed to remember._

* * *

**A/N: Happy Birthday Help Wanted. Oh my god. I can't believe you're only a year old but already has more posted chapters than your mommy's age. Awww, my baby xD *sobs dramatically* **

**Thank you guys so much for sticking with this story. I appreciate the support. It means more to me than you will ever know. Man, it has been a rocky year but I am glad you guys were with me every step of the way. I know my posting tendency has gotten a little erratic but that's because I've been coming under fire for my pairings and it makes me averse to the idea of posting anything. (All of my shit is for crack pairings)**

**I apologize for the lack of ItaTen in the chapter but I couldn't scrap this flashback or some things wouldn't make sense in upcoming chapters. There were two reference to ItaTen though ;) Did you pick them up? If this was depressing, I'm sorry :( **

**Happy Early Birthday to Amy Roth. Congratulations on finally being old enough to drink :P You just wait and see, I'll get to that age soon! *humph* And when I do, we'll get drunk together (*^****﹏****^*) Just kidding.**

**Thanks for readings. Reviews are always appreciated. Happy Holidays! **


	23. Heaven's Hell, Hell's Heaven

**Help Wanted**

**Chapter Twenty-Three — Heaven's Hell; Hell's Heaven **

**Dedicated to fanofthisfiction**

* * *

"**You can close your eyes to the things you do not want to see, but you cannot close your heart to the things you do not want to feel."**

— **Tabitha Suzuma**

"God, what have I gotten myself into this time?" The words came choking from a throat, closed tight on tears of revelation.

Tenten was trembling, her hands and feet icy cold with shock—her cheeks blooming with dreadful consternation. Being an Uchiha, Itachi must've instantly known what the mark meant, she told herself wretchedly.

There had been something too silent, too heartbreaking, in the quiet features of his face. As though he carried a cloak of nightmares with him and seeing her brand had made them physically manifest.

Obito had told her that the mark was how Uchihas were able to distinguish their slaves and livestock from that of their competitors back in the day. In the fifteenth century when sugar replaced piracy as Konoha's main source of income, a labour-intensive industry was formed.

The early plantations—owned by prominent clans; Uchiha, Hyuuga, Yamanaka, Inuzuka and so on—used a mix of labour; clansmen, indigenous people and slaves. This combination was rarely successful for sugar. Clansmen disliked the work and the indigenous people refused to do it. Thus sugar production soon came to depend overwhelmingly on forced slave labourers—usually from The Sound or poorer counties.

As sugar came to dominate the landscape, these plantations became bigger. And as they proliferated and as demand for sugar in the Fire Country increased, the plantations' demand for slaves grew proportionally. Planters organized slaves in a gang system. The toughest work—planting, spreading of the manure, and cane-cutting fell to the strongest and healthiest. Other, less physically demanding tasks were handled by gangs of less robust, younger and older slaves.

Plantation slaves were expected to work as and when the clan heads and 'over seers' dictated. To a marked degree their treatment depended on the individuals in charge—Hyuugas and Uchihas were known to have the strictest policies. And yet the most brutal aspect of their lives was not so much personal ill-treatment but the system itself. Slaves were not seen a humans but property—commodities owned by others. They were moved from one owner to the next, sometimes through sale or bartering.

No less common and brutal was sexual exploitation. Slave women often fell prey to the predatory sexual habits of their masters. Both young and old, clansmen took little or no notice of the woman herself or her age. That was how the Branch Family in the Hyuuga Clan began. The illegitimate children produced from these unions were not accepted as members of the family but they were still seen as _above_ working in fields. They were instead trained to serve the Main Family as household servants. Many received education and were allowed to venture off the plantation.

They weren't given brand marks either and as such were not captured and declared _missing nins_—term used to refer to a runaway slave.

Slave.

Tenten shuddered nauseously. The fact that you sold yourself to Itachi is incidental. It is what you believed yourself to be.

Property.

And now you are, she added starkly—the property of a man who will come to despise everything about you, even more so because he could not stop himself from devouring the body of a woman who was already someone else's chattel.

Outside the bathroom she heard something crash unto the floor after the gruff reverberation of her nickname.

"Brownie."

It drew her out of thought.

Tenten stumbled, brown eyes so dark with emotion that they seemed black in her paling face. Sheer instinct sent her towards the glass door. She stepped into the shower cubicle and switched on the jet. The water hissed down icy cold on top of her—she masochistically endured it. Then almost immediately it became stingingly hot. The need to wash away the whole experience kept her rooted where she was, lost to everything but a grinding knowledge of utter self-disgust.

She stood—unmoving—for long minutes; face lowered, water streaming onto her head until her long hair split and hung in two slick chestnuts pelts from her nape.

Slowly, her numbed flesh began to regain some feeling. The hot sting of water seemingly revived her. She found an unused bar of soap and began to methodically scrub herself; legs, feet, toes. Next was the delicate skin of her thighs where Itachi's thrusting body had left many marks. The invisible scars were the ones she was most concerned about.

They would never heal.

She washed her hips and her buttocks—sore where the height of his passion had sent his fingers digging in. The smell of him—the feel of him still lingered on her skin. It seemed to permeate the steamy air and flood her with the memory of him pushing inside her—of her screams; inarticulate sounds of pleasure and pain and need for more that had threatened to shatter her mind. It had been so good. So damn good it felt like it was going to kill her.

A ripple fluttered over her skin.

Itachi was like fire. Hot, liquid fire.

Heat.

Hell.

And she was burning. Set alight. It was a beautiful kind of pain. Seductive agony. She had been beyond shame. Beyond the normal boundaries of virginal hesitance. All she had known was the blistering need slamming through her system.

Tenten pressed her lips together and stifled a sob.

Sasuke was dead and she was making a living out of fucking his elder brother. She didn't know why but the knowledge swamped her with guilt, embarrassment and a multitude of other things that didn't bear thinking about.

One of them was causing disturbance in the deepest parts of her body. It was desire, pure and simple. No matter who Itachi was or what he was or even why he was, in the short span of time they had spent together she grew to need him. She needed what he did to make her loosen her grip on the rigid self-control she had spent the better part of her life maintaining for one wretched reason or another.

She needed to feel human.

Uchiha Itachi with his dynamic sensuality had somehow managed to find a crack in her otherwise impenetrable armour. And in doing so had unwittingly made himself so indispensable to her new need to get over her own sense of inadequacy as a person—as a woman—that she did not know how she was going to go on without him when their contract ended.

And the worst thing of all, she acknowledged as she continued to soap herself, was that knowing she felt like this about him had to be the most pride-lowering effect of the whole disgusting arrangement.

Her belly felt tight and tender inside and Tenten's heart gave a painful thump. Could she really carry out her end of the bargain? Could she forfeit all control over her baby's life to a man related to someone like Obito?

Dear God, she thought bleakly, why does fate like to test me like this? Her eyes closed, her throat moving in a constricted swallow.

Her breasts felt like they were alien parts of her. When she smoothed the soap over the taut, swollen mounds, it brought a sharp gasp of reaction from her throat. Her nipples were still erect and raw from his hot, hungry kisses.

Itachi had ruined her for anyone else and built her back up into something of his—like a phoenix burnt in hell's flames and reborn from its ashes.

He had left his mark in other ways too—in reddened blotches where his lips had nipped and sucked. Her throat had the same—several tender places where she knew she would bruise later on.

Her arms seemed to be the only part of her that was free from marks of his possession—except for her wrists, she noted as she stared at them, ringed pink where he had gripped them together over her head. He had stretched her out to her fullest and tasted every inch of her skin with his tongue.

It had all been so utterly, mind-blowingly pleasurable that she felt guilt for not entirely being ashamed of herself. Tenten was just elated so exquisitely elated because she had truly believed that she did not have it in her to respond to any man as violently as this. (Years of enduring Obito's wrath forced her to develop an instinct of submitting out of fear of being cut down.)

She had been shocked, shocked by the uninhibited wildness of what they had done. Shocked by the power of his passion and her own ability to let go of every ounce of self-control.

Tonight she was marked—marked in a way the symbol etched into the flesh of her hip had never branded her.

Sighing, Tenten turned her face up to the spray then stood there with her eyes closed, trying not to think of it any more. But unwillingly she remembered what she had done to him, how the wild explosion of passion inside her had sent her fingers raking through his satin tresses, pulling him closer.

Yet his hot, marauding mouth denied her.

Of course he would, she mused bleakly. Not kissing her was meant to make a statement—that though they slept together, their lives were separate and while they were intimate, they were still strangers.

Were they really? After everything that revealed itself to them tonight?

Glorious as the experience had been Tenten thought she might have died a little afterwards. Something deep inside her was lost forever—something besides her virginity. She didn't know what, couldn't even begin to fathom what it was either. But she knew that something vital had gone from her and had been passed, maybe, from her to him, she didn't know.

But it was most definitely gone.

Her impassioned cry of pain as he'd taken her echoed now in the hollow place her mind had become.

Well, she conceded, there was nothing else anyone could destroy now, nothing left for anyone to take away from her. Nothing except the child, if she allowed its conception.

She had gone from virgin to experienced lover overnight because there had been nothing that Itachi hadn't shown her, nothing he had not been prepared to do to heighten their pleasure. There was no gentle introduction for the virgin. No holds barred. That point between her thighs quivered in response, and jerkily Tenten pushed herself out of the shower before recollection of it all took too frightening a grip on her again.

She picked up a huge white bath sheet and wrapped it fully around herself then found another towel which she wrapped turban-style around her head. It took a teeth-clenching gathering together of all her courage to make her unlock the door and step back into the bedroom.

Slowly she entered the room—trembling—a wave of icy desolation sweeping through her. As inevitable as her confrontation with Itachi was, she was not looking forward to it. The thought of his opinion of her lowering any further had tension clamping around her heart, making each heavy thump painful.

Wasn't it only a week ago that she had convinced herself it didn't matter what the bastard thought of her, that this was simply business? She had even consoled herself with the knowledge that there was no way she would ever come to—

Tenten shut down that line of thinking quickly.

No.

That would mean giving him the possibility of hurting her far more than Obito had.

In her conceit she considered herself far too realistic, far too intelligent; to ever make such a stupid mistake. There was no way she could come to care about a man who had such a ruthless, vengeful side to his nature. If his relation to Obito was anything to go by, it was apparently hereditary too.

"Oh God," Tenten's voice ripped through the panic of stumbling upon Itachi lying—flat on his stomach—on the floor like a ghoulish mannequin. "Oh my God, Itachi."

She rushed to his aid, qualms about the current state of their affairs forgotten.

"Itachi!" she shook him fiercely, and her hand stilled on his flesh.

His skin was burning where she touched it. But it was not until she sat on her knees and gathered what she could of him on her lap that she became aware of the unnatural heat exuding from his large body.

She heard him groan her name and instinctively stroked her hand soothingly over his chest. His skin was wet with perspiration. His breathing was heavy and laboured, interspersed with guttural words she could not make sense of. All the while his eyes remained firmly closed.

It's not possible for him to be suffering a nightmare when she only just left him awake and enraged mere moments ago, Tenten reasoned. She had always thought of Itachi as some kind of exalted, superhuman being, but now, as she cradled his unconscious form, she was struck by the realization that he suffered from the same frailties, and was susceptible to the same dark fears, as the rest of the human race.

Her eyebrows drew together in a worried frown. This was no nightmare, she deduced. Something was terribly wrong with him. "Itachi wake up," she pled, sweeping his hair back from his forehead. "Itachi, what's wrong?"

He began to shiver, his muscular torso shaking as if in the grip of some virulent fever. Then shockingly he raised his head, his eyes wide open, and his hand caught her wrist in a grip of steel. "Go away Tenten. Do not touch me," his mouth worked but no sound came out.

Her panic was at an all time high now—clawing at her heart. "Are you crazy? I can't leave you like this."

She saw his throat move as he swallowed hard. "Get out—leave." His dark eyes burned with a feverish light. "I want you gone. Now." The words seemed to have taken all his strength, because immediately afterwards his eyes closed and his head fell back onto her lap.

OoOoOoOo

Itachi felt a moist cloth bathing his chest, the soothing movements cooling his scorched skin and evoking a heavy sigh from him. Fingertips, tepid and damp, gently pried apart his parched lips and tilted a glass to it. Icy water seeped into his mouth and trickle down his dry throat. Swallowing, he grimaced at the shooting pain.

There was a throbbing at the back of his head and it pounded with mounting intensity.

What happened?

Darkness clouded his mind. He tried to remember—sex, a bad omen, a phone call and then the ground wallowed and lurched beneath his feet.

The mark.

Itachi opened his eyes only to blink in bewilderment at the sight of Tenten seated on the edge of the bed.

He glanced wildly around the room and recognized it as his own. A pale mist still shifting through his vision, he adjusted his gaze to the dimly lit space. The only thing that appeared out of place was Tenten's presence and her tender bedside nursing. She hovered above him, dousing his fevered flesh—his naked flesh.

He was suddenly all too mindful of his undressed state. His body went rigid with the realization that there wasn't much obstruction between him and Tenten, only a thin blanket covering his lower region.

The twinge in his head ebbed away, replaced by a more critical ache in his loins.

All he could think about was her spicy touch and the arousal he was struggling to tamp down. The silence only ignited his imagination, giving him the opportunity to study her without distraction and envision all sorts of decadent things. Decadent things he had done with and to her.

She was oblivious to the fact that he was studying her. With each graceful stroke, she mapped the contours of his abdomen. Her eyes travelled in the same direction, at the same leisurely tempo of her roving hand. Itachi swore he felt the caress of her brown eyes more than the wet cloth. And despite the agony tearing through every fiber of his being, he couldn't risk moving—wouldn't risk disturbing her salacious rubdown to save his soul.

With the cool compress, Tenten gingerly traced a path from his navel to his neck, her meditative eyes absorbing every part of his body. Up and up went her golden gaze, until their eyes locked.

Itachi had never seen colour rushed into her cheeks so quickly before. It accentuated the soft lines of her pouty features.

She squeaked in surprise, "Itachi."

His voice rumbled, his throat raw with pain, "Were you enjoying yourself?"

Tenten went from red to white to red again, and Itachi laughed. She felt like throwing the water all over his laughing face, but she forced herself to ignore his deliberate taunt. Instead she cleared her throat and chucked the cloth into a bowl of water, spray splashing onto the floor.

"You're a fucking asshole. How long have you been awake?" she bristled but was too relieved to remain angry. A small smile lighted her eyes. "Have some more water. You're on fire."

Thanks to you, Brownie, he wanted to growl aloud.

He smirked despite himself. She was terribly adorable when mortified—like a child being told Santa Claus wasn't real. And he found that he could spend an eternity just staring at her. She was a temptress all right. Heaven to look upon and hell to resist.

But Tenten had other ideas. When he did not move, she shattered his reverie by bracing one hand beneath his neck and picking up the glass—once more—with the other. She pressed the rim to his lips and he greedily drank.

Setting the glass back on the table, she wondered, "How are you feeling?"

"Awful," he admitted gruffly. "What happened?"

"I was hoping you could tell me," she eyed him closely. "I found you unconscious when I came back into the room. You were out for two full days. I phoned your doctor, Shizune right?"

He nodded.

"She said that diabetic shocks were a common occurrence for you," Tenten released a distressed wail. "I would never have imagined you were diabetic from all the damn sweets you eat." A frown marred her brows and her mouth tightened. "I'll have to be stricter with you when it comes to sugar from now on. Lucky for us Shizune stopped by because I wouldn't have been able to take you to a hospital." An embarrassed blush stained her cheeks, "I can't drive, you know."

The heavy mist enshrouding Itachi thoughts slowly began to lift. More images came to mind: images of the two of them—her thighs straddling his hips, her head thrown back, his own head tipping back, lips tightening, his face contorting into lines of pleasure.

Tenten was heaven, he was convinced.

Nothing had ever felt so good.

She was an angel—an angel who carried around the sweet, earthy scent of lust. It wrapped around his senses, drowned him in it—made a devil out of him.

Itachi recalled heat, so much heat; too much need welling up inside him, tormenting him. He remembered his roar shattering the air, the scalding pulse of his essence, and dying in her arms. There was no other way to explain it. His soul had exploded and spewed out an emotion. It spewed out a need, a compulsive hunger as thick, hot and life-giving as his release that winged its way to her womb.

Horror rushed over him in a wave of sickening realization.

He was falling head first over an emotional precipice and straight into his own damnation. But it wasn't just the sexual chemistry, though it was strong enough to drive even a determined man insane. No, it went deeper, far too deep for Itachi to ignore the consequences of what they were facing.

It was a pairing of souls.

Heaven and hell.

It didn't make any sense. He doubted such pairings ever were. It just was. And yet it could never be, because in order for there to be balance they had to remain as separate entities.

And that they would, because as the image of the fan-like symbol etched into her hip flashed into his mind he remembered. Itachi remembered everything.

Tenten was the daughter of Obito and Rin.

She was an Uchiha and he had just fucked the cells out of her brain—very possibly creating a life.

Bile rose in his throat and threatened to choke him. What an abomination that life would be.

"I remember," he said roughly, self-revulsion and dislike now intermingled in his heated glare.

She stood up, hands hooking around her hips. "What happened?"

His black eyes iced over her. He knew he couldn't hide the truth forever. But he didn't want her to know. She had already been through so much. This would destroy her completely. Just as it was destroying him. Hell, he was terrified of looking at himself in the mirror. Of seeing the hatred and disgust he felt for himself now.

"I thought I told you to get out," he rasped.

His words were like a douche of cold water but Tenten snorted in rebuttal. "I had to make sure you didn't die before paying me."

"How did you get that mark?" he demanded hardily. He needed to know—needed to piece the puzzles together.

For one ridiculous moment Itachi had believed Obito to have sent Tenten—his daughter—to weasel her way into his life and then cut him down when he least expected it. He imagined she had been sent her to finish the job her father failed to complete years ago. But he quickly shook the notion. Tenten may know who Obito was but it was clear she had no clue what affinity they truly shared.

Itachi didn't care. He despised anything remotely linked to—anything reminiscent of the madman.

His mind was a mass of confusing thoughts however. How could there be a child in existence born to Obito and Rin? It didn't make any sense. Even the calculations were off. Tenten would have to have been conceived during Rin's stay and study in Suna. If his memory served right Obito had remained at home and sought enrollment at a local community college.

He chanced a quick glance at Tenten's face. She looked tired, he thought. Her face was thinner; lines of strain fanned out from her shadowed eyes, and for the first time he realized the past few days could not have been easy for her. He had always thought of her as a rock, indomitable, a woman nothing could hurt, but he knew that wasn't true. He had witnessed firsthand her vulnerability to him, but Itachi deliberately squashed the knowledge.

It would do him no good to dwell on such things.

They were family after all.

No, he affirmed savagely. Obito was not family and any offspring of his wasn't either.

Impotent rage began to cloud his judgment and wild, half-formed plans of revenge for his family played havoc with his normally clear and balanced mind. He could hardly breathe but he managed to growl out. "How did you get that mark?"

"That's no business of yours," her amber eyes flared. "Recall the history of your family and I'm sure you'll come know how and why I got it Mister Uchiha," she spat his surname like it was acid on her tongue.

He gritted his teeth. His fists clenched, and the colour drained from his face, leaving him white and tense.

"How do you know Obito?" He kept his voice low, but there was no disguising the hatred that welled up inside him. Whether it was for Obito, Tenten or both he didn't know.

Tenten heaved a deep sigh and paused. "How did you figure?"

Itachi sat up slowly, his shoulders hunched and regarded her in total silence, his features an inscrutable mask. Then he spoke in a voice devoid of any emotion. It came cold and distant as if he had spoken from over the wire. "Because that's the same symbol he left behind when he murdered my entire family."

She couldn't help but think Itachi wasn't aware what the mark truly meant but she still faltered, badly shaken by what she was hearing. Obito was responsible for the Uchiha massacre?

What?

How?

Why?

Tenten squashed the questions that leapt to her tongue; she had an idea she was finally going to get an insight into Itachi's family situation, and she didn't want to stop him.

He winced in discomfort, reliving the entire ordeal again in his mind. "He slaughtered my parents and burnt Sasuke alive," he told her, his dark eyes luminous with moist sorrow and despair.

Tenten saw a tear slide down the sharp blade of his cheekbone and she grasped his hand in hers. "I had no idea Itachi."

"After Rin died he lost his mind. He started doing drugs and got involved with the wrong crowd. At one point we had to put him through rehab but that didn't work," she could sense the tension in him, the effort it was taking just to get the words out, and her heart went out to him. "He came out worse than he had gone in. And when my parents closed all his accounts because he ran them all down to overdrafts to fund drug trade—"

That was probably how he came across Zabuza and Haku, Tenten thought to herself.

"—he started stealing valuables from the house and had violent outbursts whenever anyone called him out on his behvaiour." He squeezed her hand. "He got himself in a bind—unknown to my parents—and when they refused him financial aid he killed them in cold blood."

Tenten looked up at him in surprise, and shivered at the black emptiness she saw in his eyes. Still she reached out and pulled him into her arms—against her chest. One small hand gently rubbed his back. She of all people knew what Obito was capable of.

"I'm so sorry Itachi, I didn't mean to drag up any of this," she murmured.

"He had apparently borrowed money to fund emergency treatment for Rin whilst my parents were away. His creditors weren't exactly the legal kind so he panicked as the deadline drew near and he found himself unable to repay the loan. I suppose a threat must've been made to his life but if he had just explained the situation then—"

Tenten could not find words to express her horror at his story; instead she hugged him as she would a child, trying to absorb some of his pain.

"—my family would still be here today," he said in a voice that was raw with feeling before grimly adding, "Maybe."

Gently she lifted his chin with one long finger, her brown eyes intent upon his pale face. "I'm so sorry."

He returned her scrutiny and for an unguarded moment he allowed her to see into his soul; the hidden sadness, the vulnerable man, open to fear and pain, the same as anyone else.

And then it hit her…

She closed her eyes as the shock shuddered through her body. Please no, her mind screamed as in a flash of blinding clarity she was forced to recognize what she had refused to acknowledge since day one.

They were fated.

It didn't seem to matter what he did, how he humiliated her; seeing him unsure and hurting had revealed what she should have known all along. They were bounded by more than just a contract. His pain was hers. She opened her eyes to find him giving her a sombre, almost angry glance.

Tenten suddenly felt restless, struck dumb by the change that took over him and incapable of making sense of any of it. "What is it, Itachi?"

"I need you out of here by tomorrow," he groaned, his thumb reaching up to press against her lips.

Before she knew what was happening his palm was opening over her face and he was gruffly shoving her out of his way.

Stunned by his sudden show of hostility Tenten slapped his hand away and got to her feet. "What is wrong with you?" She demanded, cringing at the contemptuous expression on his handsome face, and didn't doubt his seriousness for a minute.

His perfectly features were set in a cold mask. "I want you out of my house."

Shocked tears prickled the back of her lids; she had gritted her teeth to prevent them spilling over. "Please let me explain myself Itachi. I am confused. What is going—?"

A burning sickness lurched in his stomach and he swore volubly before stating, "Now that I know what you are, I have no other choice than to call off our arrangement." His voice startled him. It had been nothing more than a whisper but he knew why that was.

His statement wasn't acknowledging Tenten as the daughter of the man he hated more than he'd ever loved his own parents.

It wasn't even acknowledging her as blood—as an Uchiha either.

It was acknowledging her as a mere breech in contract—an emotional complication. An emotional abomination even.

Blood ties aside.

The short span of time they spent together aside.

Everything else aside, he knew that if he didn't do something about Tenten now it was only a matter of time before her leaving would leave him as only half a man. His soul would wither to dust and life would, for the first time, become an event not worthy of his notice.

"Get out Brownie," he commanded thickly.

* * *

**A/N: I was recently made aware that the term "Clansmen" in American society is linked to some kind of controversy. Please know that I mean "members of a clan" when the word is used. I would absolutely hate to offend anyone. And do excuse the history behind Tenten's brand mark.**

**Secondly, I would like to apologize for the irregular updates. The abstract themes in this chapter gave me a hard time. I kept editing it over and over again because I was unsure if they would be interpreted for what it was. Thanks for reading. Reviews are always appreciate it would be nice to know what you gathered from all this abstractness :P**


	24. Shattered

**Help Wanted**

**Chapter Twenty-Four — Shattered**

**Dedicated to cathycloud9**

* * *

"**The most painful goodbyes are the ones that are never said or explained."**

— **Bilal Nasir Khan**

Shock and confusion held Tenten immobile in the kitchen the next morning. "What's this Itachi?" she stiffened, blinking in disbelief at the duffle bag tossed by her feet.

"I figured you would prefer cash over cheque," his deep male voice rang off the stone counters. There was a cynical tone to it. He looked uncomfortable, "You have until noon to get out."

She whipped her head up. Something flashed through her, hot and sharp, at the sight of that hard and serious handsome face. She fought the mad urge to laugh at herself. She should've known he would skip over all pleasantries and cut right to the point.

"Good morning to you too, Itachi. Coffee? Cream or sugar?" she asked dryly—sarcastically—and motioned with her eyes to the thermos of coffee and a basket which he discovered held croissants and apricot preserve.

His lips curved in a faintly contemptuous smile, the sensual, cresting wave of his mouth sending shivers of remembrance down Tenten's back. "I see you've got a sense of humour this morning," his frown registered his disapproval.

She bridled immediately, "What's that suppose to mean?"

His expression was bleak but firm. "I'm talking about your tactless derision of my diabetes," he stated grimly. Narrowly his black gaze watched her. "Have you finished packing?" he questioned.

An icy shiver slid down Tenten's spine. "I thought you would give me a chance to explain myself before—" she confided silkily.

His eyes were harder now, his expression grimmer. "—there is no need for an explanation. I'm calling off our arrangement. Accept your payment and leave," he softly spelled out for her.

Tenten took a stunned step back and choked. "I don't want your money, not like this."

His eyes seemed to go golden with an emotion that she was too hurt and angry to interpret. "It's a token of my gratitude for your cooperation," he granted roughly. "But, I'm afraid that—"

Slowly, very slowly, as if there were lead weights on them, she pulled her eyes down to the bag by her feet. Slowly she bent and opened the zipper.

Money, she gasped. Loads of it. Thousands.

He was talking again. His words came and went. She could hear snatches, as if through a thick, impenetrable fog.

"—recent discoveries have altered things drastically." His pause was deliberate and chilling. "You hid your relation to the man who slaughtered my family. I'm wary of you and your reasoning for doing so."

Not slow at getting his meaning, she went so white that her eyes looked like huge dark pools in her horror-pinched face. "You've got it all wrong, Itachi. That's not why I did it. I didn't learn about your own relation to him until after I signed your contract. Damn it, don't I get to explain myself?"

A nerve twitched in his jaw as he watched her, but his mouth remained firm with resolve. "An explanation won't make a difference at this point. You've worn out—" Did he hesitate, just for a fraction of a second? Tenten could not tell. She was blind and deaf to everything. "—your useful life," he said, breathing out with a short, decisive breath. "Now it's time for you to leave."

Her heart rate had slowed. She could feel it, slowing down like a motor running out of motion. Everything stilled inside her. Everything stilled around her—stilled in the whole universe.

Worn out her useful life? Leave?

It was all too much.

Shock upon shock over the last twenty-four hours. He was actually kicking her out, she couldn't believe it. Then there was the added emotional wrench of her recent trauma in finding out about Itachi being Sasuke's brother.

Tenten swayed.

Last night she laid awake, staring blindly up at the ceiling. Oblivious of any pain except the one in her heart, her mind had slowly come around to grasp the reality of what was happening to her. It was like the anaesthesia had finally worn off.

It was then that the agony became unbearable, tearing like claws through her flesh. The agony of disbelief, of shock.

Of shame.

Shame that she could've let her guard down, could've allowed herself to get so comfortable. That she could've been such an incredible fool, so stupid.

She had actually begun to believe that Itachi felt something for her—however faint it might've been. She thought she had come to be more to him than just a convenient womb. So, how could he dismiss her so easily, so cruelly? When she imagined that she would've been able to explain her past without fear of scorn from Itachi?

Despite their differences she imagined they had a special kind of understanding, as ridiculous as it may seem. They had only known each other for a few weeks after all.

Her hand had slid across her abdomen, and the agony had come again, even more piercing.

What would she do if those fleeting moments spent in his arms had led to the conception of a child—a child he no longer wanted?

The question fell like boulder to her head.

It had gone on falling, heavier and heavier, crushing her, hard and unbearable.

It took so long to accept the answer that she knew, with so heavy and broken a heart that she only had one option.

Get rid of it.

The solution came to her and a hard, determined look came into her eyes. She wanted absolutely nothing to do with Itachi after this—she wanted no reminders. None. Nothing.

With that grim resolution she had fallen into a haunted slumber.

Tenten came back to the present with a jolt and steeled herself to blank him. To wipe him and his memories out of existence. To forget him. It was vital that she did so.

Faced with the prospect of never seeing Itachi again however, her heart thudded madly behind her ribs. Her anguish formed a vice-like constriction within her chest. Dear God, she must be crazy to feel devastation like this at the mere idea of parting with the man. It couldn't be just lust. It had to be—

No.

How could she feel that way about a man willing to throw her out like rubbish, who packed her off with a duffle bag full of cash? Payment for the sex, she supposed.

How could she feel anything but hatred for a man like that?

A man without feelings, without conscience, without remorse, or the slightest acknowledgement that he has been coldly callous to her. She shouldn't feel anything for a man like that.

Itachi was still talking. The words were coming and going.

In a strange, dissociated slow motion, she felt herself straighten up. It was the strangest feeling, to feel nothing. To stand in a fog of nothingness.

For a moment she stared at her reflection in the shiny surface of the thermos. She was still there. It felt odd because she thought she had gone. She thought the world had fell away after he told her to get out.

But she was miraculously still there.

She blinked a moment.

He stopped, mouth tightening. His words had broken off.

"Tenten?" Her name came sharply.

Her eyes drifted to his. He seemed very far away. As far away as the heaven was from hell.

Don't remember. Don't think. Just collect your belongings and go. The job was over before it even begun. She didn't care, she could get another one. An actual job. Only one thing was important—one thing only. That was getting away from Uchiha Itachi. She never wanted to see him ever again.

Tenten stared expressionlessly. But his next words came out of the blue. "Your period is due soon isn't it?"

"What?" Her eyes stared in shock at the blunt question.

His mouth tightened again. "It's indicated on the calendar."

She stared at him uncomprehendingly.

"It may have escaped your notice," he said tightly. "But we had sex and you could very much end up pregnant."

Faintness drummed through her. She could feel it fuzzing her brain. Her hands clutched at her stomach on a shudder of revulsion—an action that made a nerve twitch in his jaw. She pressed her fingers into her blouse, willing herself to be calm.

Dear God, please no.

The silent, despairing plea came from her depths of fear.

The thought had crossed her mind but now, hearing it said aloud—so cynically, so bluntly—was like a death sentence.

She couldn't care for a child, especially not his.

"How soon do you suppose you'll know?"

"I—" she forced herself to think—to remember what date it was. With everything going on, keeping track of her cycle was the furthest thing from her mind. "I don't know," she said uncertainly.

"It doesn't matter," he said tersely. "I trust you'll do as I've done with our contract and terminate it."

Hysteria did take over now. She felt it rise like a lift out of a control from the very base of her feet until it burst free somewhere hot between the ears.

"You can't be fucking serious!" Tenten gasped out shrilly. Her brown eyes stared at him through a glaze of utter incredulity. "You blackmailed me out of my self-respect and into this arrangement just for a child now you're willing to just kill it off just like that?" she seared at him.

She wasn't angry, Tenten told herself. She too had contemplated getting rid of the child. She wasn't even puzzled by his response either, but she was stunned.

"Oh my fucking God!" she choked, a hand flying haphazardly up in the air then landing bewilderedly on the top of her head. "You're fucked in the head, do you know that? You ought to see a doctor so they can figure out what the hell went wrong to make you the way you are! Or, better yet—" she rattled on furiously, "—refer her to me and I'll tell her exactly what's wrong with you, Itachi! You are the product of too much interbreeding in your horrible family, that's what you are!"

"Interbreeding?" he breathed furiously.

The irony of it savaged him.

"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you Tenten Uchi—?" A sudden, hideous spurt of nausea leapt in his throat.

The hands suddenly gripping her shoulders and pulling her hard against him made the brunette gasp. The eyes, when she managed to focus on them, were flash with rage. He looked bigger, darker, more alien than he'd ever managed to look before. And he was throbbing with enough barely leashed violence to knock her down to the ground if she so much as provoked him a fraction of an inch further.

It was as if Obito himself had manifested before her very eyes.

"What?" she whispered, shaking with a wild combination of fear and fury. "What did you call me?"

"Forget it. Sit down and have your breakfast. It'll be the last you have in this house," he enunciated rawly through the trauma of emotion running rife within him.

He should tell her the truth but he didn't want to. He couldn't bring himself to.

His cell phone vibrated and he snatched it up, "Konan and Hidan are on their way over here," he informed her. "She might have a solution to our little problem, should it arise," he indicated with his phone to her mid-section.

"My God—" she swallowed tensely on the hot ball of fury blocking her throat. "Obito has nothing on you, does he? Family means nothing to you. It's easily dispensable."

That hit him on the raw. It tightened his arrogant face until the pale skin lay stretched taut across his cheeks. "Neither you nor whatever you might carry are family," he punctuated forcefully.

Oh God, he wished the former was true. Wished it was true so he wouldn't feel this disgusted with himself for feeling the way he did about her.

"I don't understand why you're being this way," she whispered thickly. "You weren't the only victim of that mad man. He uprooted me from my home, Itachi. He claimed that I—"

He turned his back to her and shrugged. His beautiful broad shoulders shifted tensely. "—I don't care Tenten," he bit out.

Emotion churned in him, harsh and pitiless. He couldn't allow himself to care or relate to her in anyway. It would be like a life sentence. That was how he had always interpreted love—lust—addiction. And already he could feel the prison doors closing on him. There was no escape. His eyes went to her, and his mouth tightened even more.

Fuck. No escape.

None.

He had to get rid of her. Cousin or not, he would not be able to exist in the same space with her. Not without having to fight the urge to fuck them both into exhaustion. He knew from the very first time he touched her that becoming addicted had been a definite threat. He couldn't handle addiction. He couldn't walk away from it.

He remembered fighting relentlessly with himself that first night she spent in his house. Fighting to keep from forcing her locked bedroom door open and take her. To bend her over the bed, bare her to him and just take what she had signed over to him. Itachi had had to remind with himself that he had never, at any time, done anything so irrational and he wasn't going to start because of some sassy, little girl.

He could have anyone he fancied with no more than a snap of his fingers. Mature women who would blush and giggle like school girls for him, experienced women who would gasp and cry out for him as he possessed their bodies. He hadn't needed Tenten. He had only wanted her.

Wanting was not the same as needing.

Or so he tried to convince himself.

Tenten was his life sentence—one his heart had wrongly convicted him for, because the damn brat was his cousin.

They were blood.

It was wrong on every possible level.

"Go get your belongings," his voice was strangled now as he fought the rising nausea erupting in his stomach. "I'll have Hidan drop you off somewhere when he gets here," he said and walked away.

Slowly Tenten nodded. It seemed the only thing to do.

That, and try to keep herself upright, keep herself together, because she was falling apart—fracturing. Tears spread across her vision but she angrily blinked them away. She couldn't believe how impossible he was being. He wasn't even attempting to hear her out.

Time had truly stopped for Tenten. She could see it flowing somewhere very far away, outside Hidan's car half an hour later. The hills were rolling beyond the tinted windows. Itachi's grand house was fading fast behind them. So time was moving, somewhere. But not inside her, inside her time had stopped. Everything had stopped. She couldn't feel anything, couldn't do anything.

Word by word she went over the revelations of the day.

Itachi had shattered her into a thousand, broken pieces. He kicked her out and tossed money in her face like she was a common slut. There was no explanation. Nothing. Just humiliation.

Hatred seared into her flesh. But she had to let go of the hatred. She had no one but herself to blame for the heartache she was feeling. It wasn't like he hadn't warned her. End of story. End of hatred.

But if the hatred went, what would be left?

Something slid painfully into her chest, towards its target.

Her heart.

Terrifying realization swept through her. Without her hatred for Itachi only one thing was left. And it damned her. It damned her utterly.

"Where to Girl Scout?" Hidan threw a look over his shoulders at her in the backseat. "My place?"

Tenten didn't know where she was going. She had nowhere to go. No family, no friends. A moment's moisture spread across her eyes then left again. This was what she was afraid of, being completely alone whilst Obito was still on the hunt for her.

He was sure to kill her if he found her.

That was the promise he made to her the last time she saw him.

Ignoring Hidan's attempt to flirt she answered rather flatly, "Anywhere's fine."

"Are you fucking serious?" His expression was curious and damning at the same time as he glanced at her in the rearview mirror. "Itachi said to make sure you were safely put up somewhere."

Carefully disposed of was more like it, she thought savagely. "Itachi—" she snarled his name. "—if I never see that bastard again it will be way too soon," she muttered.

He huffed out a short laugh.

Now, she just had to make herself believe it.

OoOoOoOo

For one long, timeless moment Itachi sat there—sat where he had his last glimpse of Tenten before she left. A movement in front of him brought his unblinking gaze from where it had dead bolted on the door.

Konan was standing over him, a cup of something steaming hot in her hands. Silently she handed it to him. Itachi caught the scent of a good old-fashioned cup of mint tea, and sipped gratefully at it until he felt life begin to return to his body at last.

Tenten was gone, it was what he wanted, Itachi reminded himself. It was what he needed. But he could not dispel the inkling that he had put her in grave danger by kicking her out just like that. He knew she was running from something. Her frequent nightmares had told him that much.

As if she'd read his mind Konan said, "She's not your problem anymore."

She could read him so well. It was to be expected; they've known each other virtually all their lives.

Her gaze was direct, and Itachi almost thought he detected the faintest hint of blue in her eyes—it would've been so true to her cold demeanour.

He almost shook his head when he looked closer and saw only the dark amber shades of the pupil.

"Thanks for tea," he murmured finally. Then, because she was just standing there watching him with a concerned frown marring her pretty face, he added wryly, "I'm fine."

"You shouldn't exert yourself. I spoke with Shizune and she said you needed to take rest," she told him softly.

"You worry too much about me Konan," he flexed one of his hands and watched the colour seep back into the bloodless skin. Then, with a strange, choking sound in his throat, he blindly pushed himself up. "But I do think that I need to lie down. I'm afraid the initial shock of the news hasn't worn off." He started to walk towards the flight of stairs. His legs were jerking, but he forced himself on.

Konan watched Itachi walk out the living room, with that strange, uneven gait.

Then she saw him falter, sway very slightly, then, with a sudden jerking movement, he folded onto the floor.

Panic clawed at her. "Itachi!"

His shoulders shook with each violent, agonizing shudder that shot through him. His throat felt so tight he imagined it might tear and burst. His arms went around himself, he would fall apart otherwise. The wracking convulsions threatened to shatter him. They shook him to pieces, into tiny fragments.

Itachi took a terrible, agonizing draft of breath. He needed to get himself together.

But the tears came.

He couldn't stop them. They poured out of him—hot, burning salt—choking in his throat, his lungs. He drew up his legs, wrapped his arms tightly around his knees and tried to hold himself together.

And yet he couldn't.

The sobs shook him raw and rasping. They were impossible to halt. It was the first time since his parents' death that he had cried and now he couldn't stop.

Anger, self-contempt and disgust broke over him in cold, sickening waves for that single night of his life—the one with Tenten—that would haunt him for as long as he lived. Not because it was so sinuously wrong but because he had enjoyed every waking minute of it—of her.

He was a truly a sick man. A conflicted man, but a sick one nonetheless.

His hands pressed around his knees. He buried his head in his arms as his shoulders convulsed. He could not bear it. He had reached the end now. There was no more strength in him. Nothing left in him at all.

Obito had taken everything—everyone he'd ever loved away from him.

His parents, Sasuke and—

His heart took up an unsteady hammer.

—Tenten.

He had no reason, no justification for feeling that way—for adding her to the list. It didn't make any sense to him. She was by right Obito's after all. And that fact had him forcibly pulling back the anger that ate inside of him. He felt it building even now, welling in his head until a tide of red edged at the corner of his vision.

No, some dark part of him objected.

His Brownie.

He felt that possession, and it terrified him. Took hold of him. And he knew he was lost to it.

The sex was one thing; the way she got under his skin, the way she stirred his senses crazy—that was something else entirely. How could he have known that love could happen like this? That it could rip and shred the soul, tear apart a heart that had shielded itself for more years than he wanted to count. Was it a blessing or a curse?

Or neither.

Maybe it was nature's way of ensuring life, of pairing those two souls meant to come together? One half of the other. But who was he to even consider something as miraculous as a soul mate for himself when the woman in question was blood? And the child of the man who murdered his family?

He was instantly disgusted with himself. What the fuck was wrong with him? He was pathetic.

A shadow fell over him.

"Itachi."

The voice was strange—disconcerted, concerned. It was the strangest voice he had ever heard. But he could not hear it clearly. The sobs in his throat was drowning out everything, the hot tears blinding him. The pain chewing at his chest was all he could feel, except for the convulsions of his body.

No. He shook his head, refused to accept it. He could not be in love with Tenten as well.

As well as what? He asked himself tautly. As well as being so sexually obsessed with her that he could barely look at her without wanting her badly.

Love. He tried tasting the word carefully.

Had he become one of those poor, wretched creatures—a man in love? Hell, he didn't believe in love.

"Itachi, are you alright?"

It was that voice again. He recognized it as Konan's.

The sobs went on, consuming him.

"Should I call Shizune?" Her voice came again. More words, words Itachi did not understand, sounding urgent. Imperative. She was beside him, crouching down. Her hands were on his shoulders. "Or are you remembering the incident? Itachi? Talk to me."

He looked up at her, through the moisture that filled his eyes.

There was something in her face, her eyes.

It was shock. Raw, naked—perhaps a little appalled—shock. She had never seen him like this before.

"What's wrong?" Her voice was almost childishly soft, confused.

"What's wrong?" he echoed, his voice sounded calm, but she saw something odd in his expression. A twinge of pain. "What's not wrong Konan?" His face contorted, but not from weeping this time. "I just found out the woman I hired to have my child is the same girl I had always thought of as Sasuke's imaginary little girlfriend. I could've dealt with the guilt of that. I could've change my attitude towards her and treat her with the kind of respect my brother obviously thought she deserved." He rubbed a hand over his mouth and fixed his onyx gaze on her. "But this—" he choked off.

She bit the inside of her mouth as a strange mess of emotions welled near the surface. They knew each other so well; she knew what was coming before he said it. "I knew that girl was trouble the first time I laid eyes on her but I never imagined she would be this much trouble." Her quip died on her lips as his jaw stiffened. She swallowed hard, "You did the right thing getting rid of her."

"—this is out of my control," Itachi shook his head, fighting back a sense of imbalance and a nearly overwhelming urge to bash his head against something.

He stared into the face he should love with every ounce of passion in his soul. It was the face of the woman who had always been there for him. The woman who helped him through the nightmares that followed that fateful night. It went against logic that he should feel for Tenten—in the span of a few weeks—what he never managed to feel for Konan after all those years.

He pushed his fingers through his hair in frustration. "I admit, Tenten's resemblance to Rin stroke me as a little uncanny but I didn't spare it a second thought. That she might've been Obito's child would never have crossed my mind either. Rin only had eyes for Kakashi. I was a child but I could see that. It drove Obito mad with envy, especially when they both got accepted into the same university overseas."

Konan swallowed.

"You said they were able to dig up her birth records in Suna?" He inhaled deeply, trying not to let emotion creep into his voice. "I was just curious about her, I suppose. That night I saw her with Sasuke's teddy bear, it got me thinking that maybe it might've been a calculated move on her part to seek me out."

She hesitated, thoughtful. "That was why you asked me to do some probing?"

"I never expected this," his eyes flashed furiously. "I feel physically sick knowing I went to bed with my cousin but what's worse—far far worse—is the soul deep revulsion I feel because I might actually have fall—"

Itachi broke off horrified and dismayed. The second the words left his mouth he wanted the ground to swallow him because Konan knew him well enough to finish the sentence in her head.

He stumbled to his feet, staggering away, his lung heaving.

"Excuse me," he grouched, embarrassed by the pitiful show of himself he was making.

Behind him Konan stood stock still.

Completely motionless.

Yet inside her, like a very slow explosion, his words were detonating through her. A curl of guilt unwound inside her. Guilt at how she had betrayed their friendship. Betrayed him.

What had he just said? Surely it couldn't have been true.

Slowly, she followed him.

His back was to her. She could see that his shoulders were still heaving, and she could still hear ragged breathing, quieter now.

With a more desperate, despairing sound. The man didn't know what to do with himself. Had the situation been reversed she probably wouldn't have either, Konan conceded.

Slowly, very slowly, she spoke. "What did you just say?"

Itachi started. Had he not heard her walking behind him all along?

"What was that Itachi?" she asked again.

His shoulders hunched. When he spoke, his voice was shaky, raking. "Go home Konan. You can tell me about all that you've unearth tomorrow."

She shook her head. He couldn't see the gesture, but she didn't care. It came automatically to her. "What were you going to say Itachi?" Her hands curved over his shoulders. She turned him around to her and stood looking at him. He looked hollowed out, emptied out. "Tell me."

"It doesn't matter," he shrugged her off.

She bit her lip and stared at him, thankful he wasn't able to see that her mask had fallen away.

"I'm sure it's not what I want to hear, Itachi. But I need to hear it."

She'd survived most of her life by locking away feelings and emotions that could hurt her. By wearing that mask of invincible cool she had silenced competitors and won heated battles with shareholders far quicker than any shouted bluster would.

But was there anything left under the mask?

When she and Itachi were younger she'd held nothing back. She'd shared her thoughts, her dreams, a piece of her heart—and he'd handed it back to her on a silver platter. He did not wish to compromise their relationship by attempting to push it beyond friendship. She was a constant in his life, he said, and he didn't want to risk what they had.

Konan had respected that—been flattered by it even—but since then she'd confided in no one.

Because no one was to her like Itachi was.

Most days her mind dealt with practicalities: total quality management and intangible assets, outsourcing and recruiting.

Did she even have dreams anymore?

Yes she did.

She wanted to see Itachi happy for a change.

Konan breathed out heavily, silently. "There's something else that you should know Itachi." Guilt stabbed at her heart again. "There was also—"

Itachi straightened and started back at her in disbelief before he shook his head and suspicion began to fill his eyes as well. "Also what Konan?"

She shut her eyes and said it. "—a death certificate for Tenten. It listed her as stillborn and as Hatake Tenten." It was a breath of air, no more than that.

Ridiculously he felt his chest filled with so much hope it could burst. He had to blink back the burn in his eyes, swallow past the thickness of his throat. "That makes absolutely no sense."

"We have a theory that Rin gave birth to Tenten while she was in college and faked the child's death to get out of raising her." Konan had a strange tangled feeling in her stomach ever since Hidan had come across the document. She was hoping her assumptions were wrong but kept her voice as casual as possible. "It's very likely that she did it to dissuade Kakashi from insisting they keep the baby—"

The strange expression on Itachi's face unnerved her but she continued.

"—otherwise why else would Tenten's adoption records and birth certificate list her as an Uchiha, if not so Kakashi couldn't trace her?"

"Tenten is not a common name," he frowned. "None of what you're saying makes sense. If she was trying to hide the child why not change both names?"

Konan reached into her coat and pulled out a couple black and white photographs. They were terribly grainy and obviously taken by a street camera. "Perhaps Rin wanted to be able to locate the child herself—in future," she handed him the pictures. "Hidan pulled those from a police report filed eighteen years ago about a three year old who was kidnapped from her foster home."

"It's Rin," his hand tightened around the photo. Recognition jolted him heart like a bolt of lightning. "And little Brownie—I mean, Tenten."

He knew every curve of her face. And colourless as the picture was he could make out her mass of chestnut hair, saucer brown eyes and tiny, pouting, dear little face that could have melted steel girders.

"Rin went to retrieve Tenten but she never made it back home with her," Konan said in grim tones. "I believe this was around the same time she met in that car accident back in Suna. Tenten disappeared off the grid that day."

"Wait a minute," he growled in wretched agony. His hands closed around her wrists instantly. "Tenten is Kakashi and Rin's daughter?" That made perfect sense, now that he thought about it.

"Not according to her birth papers," she choked.

But it was too late. She could see it. See it in the change of expression in Itachi's face. See the realization, the shock—the disbelief—jagging across his features.

"Not according to the birth papers?" He echoed, his grip on her wrists tightened. "You hinted that they were tampered with." Suddenly, frighteningly, the expression in his eyes changed, flashing with dark, killing anger. "Tell me the truth. I deserve that much, Konan. I just paid off that poor girl like a whore and told her to get an abortion if she found herself with child."

She yanked her hands free, jerking back with all her effort. "I only just got confirmation from the lab with the samples that I had Shizune retrieve from Tenten."

Itachi arched a brow.

"At my request Shizune snatched a few hair samples from her when she stopped by to check on you on the other day."

"Confirmation for what?" he demanded, fury icing through his words, his features. "Talk. Tell me everything."

Her face had gone white. He was not surprised. Guilt was blazoned across it. Rage spurted through him again. He knew Tenten wasn't exactly her favourite person but for her to be so vicious—so vengeful. To keep vital information like this from him, deliberately, knowingly. It was unforgivable.

Her breath was crushed from her lungs. "There was a match between hers and Kakashi's DNA. I wanted to tell you sooner but I honestly thought you were doing the right thing by getting rid of—"

He silenced her with an impatient wave of his hand, "By letting me think I had sex with my cousin?" he demanded, cutting her off. His jaw was gritted, fury still roiling inside him. "Tell Hidan to turn the car around and bring her back home."

Home? Konan mused, with a sick, hollow feeling inside her. She had never heard Itachi refer to his house like that before. It was sort of comforting, she had to admit. It gave her hope that he had finally begun the healing process.

He had been wounded and raw for far so long after that night.

But the bandages were coming off—another woman was prying them off—and what she saw wasn't as unsightly as she imagined it would've been. On the surface this Tenten girl didn't seem like much, but she clearly was—at least to Itachi. Konan was grateful.

"You and I need to have a talk," he rasped.

She swallowed.

There was murder in his face. It told her everything that she needed to know.

Uchiha Itachi was in love.

* * *

**A/N: Its my Birthday today and I'm terribly ill *sobs* Well its not like I had plans or anything so I suppose it doesn't matter ;) ****Thank you so much for reading. Reviews are very much appreciated. They would be like gifts (probably the only thing I receive) on this...er...special?...day xD**


	25. Au Courant

**Help Wanted**

**Chapter Twenty-five — Au Courant**

**Dedicated to Bayes**

* * *

"**It is a capital mistake to theorize before one has data. Insensibly one begins to twist facts to suit theories, instead of theories to suit facts."**

— **Arthur Conan Doyle**

Time ticked relentlessly by as the fifteen minutes Itachi had said he needed to himself, progressed to thirty.

It was almost an hour before Konan gathered her scattered wits together and made her way down the hall. She headed towards the room where Itachi kept all old records, antiques, books and such that he had recovered from the fire. The fire that Obito had set to the Uchiha Manor after he slaughtered its residents, many years ago.

She halted before the double doors, inlaid, with pearl handles.

A film of sweat broke out over her body.

She had tried Hidan's mobile number at least a dozen times since Itachi slammed this very door in her face. And on each try she had been unsuccessful at getting through. It wasn't a good sign. He could've already dropped Tenten off somewhere and very well be on his way back. The Uchiha was not going to want to hear that.

"Itachi," she murmured, softly, then tapped lightly on the panels, and pushed open the door.

She hovered indecisively before stumbling unceremoniously into the room. A room that immediately chilled her by its severity. Konan did not know what she had expected, what kind of reaction she had thought Itachi might reveal but certainly, she was not prepared for the disdain that lurked in the depths of his black eyes as he turned in her direction.

Her desire for escape—which had been growing within her ever since she told him the truth—reached tremendous proportions.

She wanted to seek the freedom she would find outside the bounds of this bleakly furnished room. The smell of rain tinged with smoke lingered faintly beneath the furnisher polish and scented air freshener. Intangible remnants from the fire. A small reminder of the events of that horrible night.

None of the luxury and opulence that could be found elsewhere in the house was present here. Instead, the floors were starkly polished wood, strewn with skin rugs, while the walls were lined with shelves containing hundreds of drab-covered tomes and souvenirs that had obviously rarely seen the light of day.

The desk was oak, and strewn with papers, while the two chairs before and behind it were brown leather and merely conventional. They were obviously recovered from Fugaku's old office. But even while Konan abstractedly noticed these things her whole attention was focused on the man who was staring at her with cold intensity.

Tension netted her.

To anyone else it would seem as if there was no expression in his eyes. None in his face, either. But she knew that in his heart fury burned. Implacable, unforgiving. Deadly.

She said nothing. Her expression too, was shuttered—tight when she crept into the room.

The silence literally screamed.

She wished he would say something. She knew she was not being overly sensitive in imagining that she was being mentally examined now, like an insect under a microscope.

"You're still here?" the inflection in his voice was faintly curious, yet chillingly polite, and she suppressed a slight shiver of apprehension.

"You said we needed to talk," she reminded him. "Indeed there are still things I need to elaborate on," she added with deliberate significance.

"Is that so?" he asked, slowly, continuing to regard her intently.

For some reason she began to find it difficult to articulate. "Y-yes," she managed, tremulously. "A-about the girl."

It was all so terribly anti-climatic, Konan thought, desperately. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined feeling so completely inadequate. She didn't know quite why Itachi should regard her so contemptuously when all she was doing—all she has ever done—was look out for him. Cater to his best interest. But most significant of all was the realization that this man before her was a stranger.

It has been so long since she saw him hint at having even an ounce of fondness towards a woman besides herself, that it felt a little surreal he fancies himself to be in love with Tenten.

"It was for your good, you know," she finally said in a rush, cutting straight to the chase.

One eyebrow arched in silent query.

Konan drew a deep breath, and then released it slowly. "By withholding specific information about the girl," she began, tight-lipped, "I believed myself to be doing right by you."

"Do right by me or yourself?" Itachi countered with cold clarity. His complete incomprehension on that score was as palpable as the fact that he had been deeply hurt and offended by her actions. "You didn't stop to think about the repercussions. I destroyed someone today, Konan. Someone I've come to care—"

"I get it Itachi," she cut in jaggedly.

She found herself squirming. Convince herself as she might, Konan was honestly not ready to hear him say it out loud. She was not ready to hear him say that Tenten had accomplished in a few weeks what she couldn't after so many years—his love.

He raked at her in condemnation. "How could you do that?"

The flash of genuine pain and bewilderment she recognized in his eyes made her shrivel on the inside. But she managed to keep her own eyes enigmatic. "Her records identified her as two different persons; an Uchiha and a Hatake. I had to be certain which one she truly was before I said anything to—"

"—except that you didn't," he interposed tautly. "You conveniently forgot to tell me that there was also a possibility that she could've been Kakashi's offspring." Catching a tight rein on his temper he clasped his hands before him on the desk and asked with a deceptive kind of calm, "Why?"

"Because I'd rather not build up your hope only to tear it back down should the test have revealed that Tenten was in fact Obito and Rin's child," she stated repressively.

He met her gaze with a mixture of hopeless anger. "You had no problem crushing it from the very beginning."

"To prevent a plant from flowering one must first stop the seed from germinating," Konan offered. Put like that it sounded so laconic; bitter almost.

On the contrary, her concern was sincere. It was better to have slain his feelings for the girl in its earlier stages than later on. After it evolved beyond the flesh and ingrained itself within one's soul, love was near impossible to get rid of. Painful too.

Itachi's face clenched.

He was even angrier than she had anticipated. Without warning, he thrust back his chair and sprang upright like he hadn't previously been ill.

She shifted uncomfortably, and he straightened, moving with the lazy indolent grace which had always reminded her of the smooth feline elegance of a cat, but no mild domestic animal, this. A truly formidable male animal he was, and a dangerous one, she perceived. It was there in his bearing—a ruthlessness clearly evident, forbidding and faintly cruel.

"Sit down," he instructed gruffly, indicating the chair opposite the one he had previously occupied.

Konan hesitated. She had no desire to sit down if he was going to stand. She felt at enough of a disadvantage as it was without increasing her discomfort. But finally she did as he asked, and waited for him to make the next move.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him pace over to the tall windows. He stood there for a moment, leaning against the frame, regarding the view almost dispassionately.

This particular room had a magnificent view of the sunset—the horizon deepening to purple as the sun sank out of sight. But the man seemed indifferent to his surroundings, even while he fitted into them.

"It's dangerous to keep her around," she spoke up, linking her fingers in her lap.

"What gave you that idea?" Itachi challenged, without skipping a beat.

"Her presence could lure Obito right back to you," she elaborated. "You are after all, unfinished business."

Itachi stilled for a moment in his restive passage around the room and shot her a look that revealed nothing. "He is unfinished business," he corrected. Then his lashes dropped low, his features freezing. "If he gets within a mile of this place I'll kill him."

Her smile was wholly cynical. "You're not a killer Itachi."

That was where she was wrong. He was after all, an ex member of the force. He has taken lives before. "You don't know what I am."

"I know what you aren't."

He regarded her silently for several seconds until the silence between them drew out and seem to become a tangible entity.

She bit her lip.

He was still, every muscle tensed with anger, and she caught her breath in fear of what form his retaliation might take. But then his dark eyes had the icy glitter of stars, and she knew his temper was under wraps again. Or at least she hopes.

"If something happens to Tenten, I swear—" he ground out. "—you'll be the first to know exactly what I am or am not," he threatened ominously.

"If something happens to her it'll be no one's fault but your own," she informed him stiltedly, and saw his faint grimace. "I didn't kick her out, Itachi. You did."

His jaw line squared in pure outrage at that unbelievably tactless reminder. It may have been petty but it was the truth.

"Because of your negligence to tell me the full truth," he expostulated angrily, his eyes smouldering like the heart of a fire.

Konan waited several second before responding soberly. "We've already established why I did that."

"Your reasoning isn't exactly a reflection of the Konan I know."

She stared at him painfully, colour flooding her cheeks and receding again. All that went unsaid in that remark filled her with intense discomfiture.

There was derision in his voice, and a mocking expression in his eyes. He was amusing himself with her, she thought sickly. Making fun of her impulse to protect him from hurt—from Tenten. He was making fun of her affections, which meant that he was aware of them.

Nerves twisted her stomach into a painful knot.

Itachi didn't have to say it, she read him better than an opened book. He was under the impression that everything she had done was an act of jealousy. And, from the smug tilt of his lips she could tell he had a flashback to the time she kissed him. It wasn't for the sake of relishing the memory though. He sought it to justify his belief that her actions were envy-induced.

"I must be going," Konan began, getting unsteadily to her feet. It was both a blessing and a curse to be able to discern what Itachi was thinking some times.

He lifted his shoulders indolently. "Don't be so sensitive," he murmured.

Her nails dug into the palms of her hands. She felt stripped bare—of her clothes, of her skin and mortal bones, until all that was left was her soul. Exposed. "I really must be going," she said unevenly.

"We're not done here," he said, coolly and clearly. "I'd like a few things clarified. In addition, Tenten has still not been returned to me," he drawled with controlled impatience.

"Another time—" she asserted, finding it difficult to maintain a sense of reality in all his indifference towards her but blatant concern over a woman he had known only for a few short weeks. "—I'll answer all your questions then."

His eyes flickered at this. But then he crossed the room again, dominating it with his sheer size and presence, his every movement inherently graceful.

"You came here to talk, so talk. Have you been able to make contact with Hidan?"

Someone once said that _no news was better than bad news_ so with that in mind Konan kept quiet. She allowed her gaze to wander idly over the bookshelves that ran floor to ceiling along an entire wall.

Family records, she marveled.

Uchiha Fugaku used to be obsessed with documenting every single accomplishment, event, transaction and the likes that had to do with the clan and its individuals. The old man had hoped to have his autobiography published but his untimely death severed that dream.

It wasn't completely severed, Konan thought to herself. There was enough material within the binds of these books to create a series of novels from all their lives. She recalled Itachi complaining about his lack of privacy during their teen years. Apparently his father even went as far as to have the receipts from their purchases extracted from their credit cards. Everything was copied and filed away.

Itachi's disgruntlement was understandable. There were certain things a teenage boy would be uncomfortable adding to the household's shopping list and hence would have to get it himself. But as it turned out, even doing so was in vain.

"Sit down." He suddenly said, innate authority in every measured syllable.

Konan was stung out of thought.

She gave an awkward face-saving shrug. "Surely you don't expect Tenten to come back at your request. You tossed her out so quickly it felt like Thursday and you were trying to catch the garbage truck."

"I still maintain that you're the reason for that," Itachi delivered with murderous cool. He glanced over to one of the bookshelves, selected a book and tossed it lightly to her. "I don't suppose it's odd that the surname Tenten uses is neither Uchiha nor Hatake," he said, changing the subject.

His companion blinked.

"However, what I found odd was that there were a number of payments made from Obito's bank account to a Z. Momochi." Speculation threaded his voice as he settled in his chair once more. "Momochi is the last name Tenten claims as her own. She told me it was given to her when she was adopted."

"What are you saying?" Konan asked, annoyed at the falter in her voice. "Do you suppose Obito had been sending money to the family to take care of her? I mean it would make some amount of sense." She tried to reason.

Rin's blood ran through Tenten's vein after all, and she clearly have had some kind of relation with the man. Had he been her guardian from afar? A silent provider?

Itachi frowned, "That couldn't have been the case. When Sasuke met her she was homeless."

"It could've been a case of negligence and greed on her foster family's part," she volunteered. "A lot of foster parents are only interested in the—"

"—that's not it," his shrug was slight and almost undetectable. "Take a look at all those bank statements. The dates to be more specific," he instructed.

Itachi watched her skim through the fragile pages of the dusty, old book. Every once in a while she would pause to cough or sneeze.

"The payments started long after Sasuke met Tenten. She was eight then. She had to have been at least fourteen when the transactions were made," he pointed out.

She looked over the dates and nodded. "You're right. If Obito was aware of Tenten's whereabouts back then surely he would've informed Rin. I mean, she was still alive when Sasuke went on that field trip—terribly ill, but alive," Konan murmured.

Then she noted the sum of money being transferred across the accounts and went white as parchment.

Thousands of dollars. Enough to feed and clothed several households for several years.

"Umm, Itachi…?" her voice trailed away as the realization dawned.

"Hn?"

"By any chance does_ Z. Momochi_ go by the name Zabuza?" Her eyes had gone enormous, her entire body numb with incredulity.

Something like recognition flashed in Itachi's eyes before he wordlessly reached across the table for a tattered, old leather legal pad folder and flipped it opened.

It once belonged to Obito.

Itachi had come across a long list of names back then—scrawled across its pages. A listing of the man's dealers, he surmised. He was almost certain that was where he saw the name Zabuza before.

His hands fumbled through the pages.

The need to know drove his finger on down the page. When he found the name he looked back at Konan, his eyes narrowed. "Yeah. What of it?"

"He was a notorious drug Lord and leader of the Yakuza gang."

He elevated a cool, slanting dark brow. "Is that so?" He looked hugely unimpressed by that reveal. "Well there's certainly no surprise there," he said with a grim edge. "Obito wasn't exactly known to associate with anyone but delinquents."

Konan lips compressed into a thin line that hinted at her being in deep thought. "Now that you've brought this to my attention the blanks have been filled in."

He switched on a lamp that stood on his desk and the mellow glow banished the shadows which had begun to creep into the room. "What do you mean?"

Night was fast approaching.

He felt a chill of foreboding tearing through him. And a pluck of guilt.

He had a bad feeling about having kicked out Tenten without knowing exactly what Obito's deal was with her. Something did not set well with him about their connection. The poor girl had looked horrified at the mere mention of his name. Then there were the nightmares. Itachi could never forget her nightmares. They always kept him awake.

Konan wet her lips with her tongue. "It's possible that Obito discovered Tenten through his dealings with Zabuza."

"That much I gather," his voice almost failed him because with every word she spoke Tenten's nightmares were beginning to explain themselves. "Ever since the day Sasuke brought up the girl from his field trip who had Rin's necklace Obito must've figured Tenten hadn't died in the car crash—" Then he slotted in tightly, "—back when Rin went to fetch her in Suna."

"Well, now we know what happened to her after the accident. She became a homeless wanderer until she somehow got tangled up with Momochi," Konan imparted, regarding him in open dismay. "It makes you wonder what use Yakuza had for a small girl like that. Perhaps they used her as a vessel for transporting drugs. Does she have any surgical scars?"

Like clips from an old movie, memories from his encounter with the brunette's bare body shaded through his mind. Then quite suddenly Itachi smote his fist into the palm of his hand. "No she doesn't but she has _**that**_ symbol carved into her hip," he said huskily.

Konan's cheek lost some colour, "You mean…?"

"Yes." For an instant she saw a flash of stark, bitter pain in his narrowed gaze before he screened it. "It's now safe to assume that he didn't exactly play the role of a doting fairy godfather to her."

"Well, considering who her biological father is," she supplied gravely, in all fairneas.

It was no secret. Obito despised Kakashi. Tenten being a part of Rin probably wasn't enough to distract from the fact that she was fathered by the enemy.

Itachi let his shoulders relax back into the chair, and lifted his cup. Despite the liberating ease with which he was conversing with Konan, at the same time he was aware of the swell of foreboding still rising within him. A peculiar sensation of fear, like a trickle of electricity rippled through him, just below the level of his skin.

He couldn't dispel the bleak edge that had overtaken his mood.

Danger and tragedy was amidst.

He didn't know how he could be so sure, yet he was. It was a truth as implacable as a law of the universe. Inescapable. And, just as relentless as that truth, came the second wave of disquiet, harder and more jolting than the first.

He had been the one to throw the bait in the lion's den.

Konan ran her hand down one of the pages and lifted her head to Itachi. She gave him a curious, veiled look. "I don't know if you know this, but Zabuza was found dead at his home seven years ago. Guess what the detectives found etched—"

"—into his skin," Itachi fielded ruefully. "Obito's signature mark."

The man was predictable.

She nodded. "It's not _his_ mark Itachi; rather, it's every Uchiha's."

He glowered at her again, an impatient gleam in the depths of his dark eyes. "What do you mean?"

"It's an old Uchiha family crest," she said succinctly, deliberately pausing to ascertain from Itachi's expression, whether further elaboration was necessary.

She didn't have to wait long.

"Spare me the history lecture," he was hard and arrogant again, his approachability dissolving.

His raw, dismissive words lay there between them, plunging them into a sudden, thunderous silence.

"I'm curious," he said after a long while, without any expression at all.

"About?"

"Where was Kakashi in all of this?" he snapped. "Was he not made aware of Tenten's existence after Rin's unsuccessful expedition to Suna?"

"I thought you might ask that." A slender hand casually closed round the half-filled cup sitting on the edge of his desk and extended it to him. "You might want to finish your coffee for this, Itachi."

Didn't she smell the alcohol? He wondered. The bottle of Mangekyo was sitting in open view. Couldn't she tell that it wasn't black coffee? Evidently, not.

"What aren't you telling me?" he reached out and accepted the cup. "No more secrets. Tell me everything."

Itachi tossed back the rest of his drink in a burning surge. He could feel his anger stab like the fiery heat of the liquor in his throat. Then, forcing himself to lessen his grip on the mug, he inhaled deeply. Anger was unnecessary. What was done was already done. All he could do was look ahead and hope _she _would be there.

Konan produced a brown folder from the handbag she had settled next to her on the ground and slid it across to him. "Sasori delivered these, prior to my coming here."

Itachi sent the folder a winging glance. His brow must've been tight with tension because he rubbed it with his fingers. Still, his silence was encouraging.

Her soft mouth hardened. "Do you recall me saying I couldn't find any records of Tenten Momochi in Konoha?"

"Hn."

"That's because when it came to legalities she went by another name—"

Itachi's eyes rested on her like weights.

"—Kaoru Mochida," her voice was a thread.

"I don't understand."

"Look at the files," Konan urged. "They're her high school and medical records."

He opened the folder and deftly extracted the sheaf of papers it contained. "These are only dated as far back as seven years ago," he declared after very long and careful scrutiny. "It's as if she didn't exist before that."

She tilted her blue head to one side and stared at him. "In some sense, I guess she didn't."

"Hn," he muttered distractedly.

Despite having only started school at age fourteen, Tenten's transcript was impressive, he noted in awe. She particularly excelled in language and literature from the looks of things an aspired to be a writer.

Maybe it's true what they say; pain and suffering gave birth to some of the most gifted individuals. As a way of coping they channelled negativity into creative streams.

Kaoru Mochida, Itachi digressed. It was a pretty name.

"Quite interestingly enough, Tenten came back on the grid the same year Momochi was murdered." Konan's eyes briefly slipped away from him. "I'm well aware that Obito is the bad guy here but—"

His faint indrawn hiss of disapproval was more visible than audible. "Hn?"

She swallowed, a hard knot in her throat, and looked back at him, straight in the eye. "—he has obviously been looking out for the girl. We shouldn't rule out the possibility of Tenten being a rebel on the run. I mean, if we take her upbringing prior to your cousin into account, it's not too much of a stretch."

"Take a look at her medical records, Konan. She has been treated for burns, bruises and a few broken bones," his harsh voice cut through her recrimination of Tenten. "Don't tell me you think they were either self inflicted or mere injuries from co curricular activities? She was being abused."

"Read with your eyes and not your heart, Itachi," she told him with a measure of cynicism.

His brows drew together. "What's that suppose to mean?"

She gave a barely derisive snort. "I'm sure you know.

Silence simmered like a cauldron on the boil.

Even as he immersed himself in the files before him to avoid making a retort, his face looked broken, ravaged.

He really was in love with this girl. The knowledge scraped at her heart. On one hand she was relieved he wasn't as emotionally challenged as the world believed, but on the other—

Well, frankly his love for Tenten confused her. Possessiveness and protectiveness, she understood. But love made no sense. They hardly knew each other.

Konan regarded him quietly for a moment before determination lent her eyes a sparkle. "Tenten has more than a couple detentions on her records for fighting at school."

Itachi shrugged negligibly. "So?"

"That could easily explain her many trips to the hospital," she sounded dubious even to herself. "You know what they say—" she incised without the slightest bit of hesitation, "—you can take the man out of the slum but you can't take the slum out of the man."

"If you're implying that Tenten was ungrateful or didn't see the value in what Obito tried to give her, then there are records to prove you wrong," Itachi argued with more emotional than she had ever seen him. Then without warning he gruffly thrust a few sheets of paper in her direction. "Her academic reports are all near perfect. Except for the first year and that can be pardoned given the circumstances."

"I'm only trying to look at things from a number of perspectives," she confided warily.

He lifted his hands and spread them in an almost aggressive silencing motion. "You claim you're so keen on details but I've come to realize that you see only what you want to see." He muttered heavily, his lean, strong hands clenching into fists and then slowly unclenching again as if he was willing himself into greater calm.

"What?" she breathed thickly.

"The scuffles you mentioned were all during her first year. And if you had read the account of each fight, you've known that they all started because she was being teased or bullied by another student—"

"That's only Tenten's side of the story," Konan cut in matter-of-factly. "The other parties' accounts of the altercations are placed on their records."

"—Naturally anyone would be bound to retaliate," he conceded in a dark, roughened undertone. "I imagine she might've been a little slower than the others, at first."

He had already worked it all out, Konan registered.

"No doubt she was ridiculed for it." he ground out between clenched white teeth. "No wonder she had so many sessions with the school's guidance counselor," he scowled, scanning another sheet of paper. "How did Sasori come by all of this?"

All of this was private information.

"He's Sasori," Konan said. "That fact is self-explanatory really."

The redhead was always the man to get his hands dirty _when push came to shove_.

Quite suddenly Itachi went sort of sickly grey in front of her, a sheen of perspiration on his skin. He set the papers down and settled sombre dark eyes on her. "Her high school counselor was Kakashi Hatake?" he prompted on a rising note of incredulity.

She nodded in affirmative and watched him pour a swig of Mangekyo into his mug with a great deal less than his usual dexterity. "Now does it make sense why Obito had Tenten's name changed?"

"I suppose," Itachi said, evidently getting his brain back into gear. "You mean to tell me that for five years, she went to this man for counseling and did not know that he was her father?"

"Nor did he. Kaoru is actually Tenten's middle name, if her birth certificate is anything to go by. It's the same on her forged death certificate as well."

"She's not an orphan after all," a small smile slashed his stubborn mouth.

A strange kind of fascinated relief was emanating from him in perceptible waves. Konan could feel it.

"My guess is that, had Tenten gone by the name Uchiha or Hatake, Kakashi might've figured something. Obito wouldn't risk that happening. Her adoption was never made official so dropping Momochi from her name wouldn't have been a problem."

Itachi folded his arms and focused on her with grave dark eyes, his tension palpable. "And you knew all this for how long?"

"I already told you, I got the results from the DNA test this morning. It's actually by chance that I came by all this information on Tenten." She informed him gently. "I had asked Sasori to locate Kakashi and do a little digging. How do you think we came by his DNA?"

He mumbled something indecipherable.

"While he was out on reconnaissance—"

Code for breaking and entering the man's place of residence.

"—he came across a picture of Tenten in Kakashi's office drawer. Sasori thought it warranted further investigation so he decided to probe some more." She casually leaned back in her chair and finished smoothly, "It was all by chance."

Itachi was silent for a moment, seemingly digesting everything.

"It has been eight hours since they left, Hidan should be back by now." Konan found herself pointing out uncomfortably.

"Call him," he said, looking at her from above the rim of his mug.

She pulled his telephone towards her.

"Do you mind if I use your landline? He's not taking my calls," she said and with faintly shaking fingers dialed Hidan's digits, then waited with scant patience for him to answer. "Maybe if he sees your number, he'll pick up."

"He had better," Itachi growled with furious impatience and growing frustration.

After a seemingly interminable length of time the call seem to pitch through. An Incredulous silence hummed on Konan's side of the line.

Then he heard her bark an ill-manned greeting. "Where the hell are you? Itachi needs you to return now, and you had better have Tenten with you." She added with supreme cool.

He poured another liberal amount of Mangekyo into his cup and slowly drank it down, grimacing at the way Konan's face suddenly tighten and pale.

"How the hell did you come by this number?" she demanded, pale purplish shadows forming beneath her eyes. "Where's Hidan?"

"What is it?" Itachi queried.

She was so tense her muscles must literally ache, he mused—not amused. She was speaking into the phone, but somehow her voice sounded to him as though it was coming from the other end of a long dark tunnel.

Then suddenly she looked down dazedly at the receiver and thrust it violently back on the cradle.

Itachi thought that her horror and pallor gave him a fair enough indication that Hidan had already dropped Tenten off and all hope of atonement was lost. But with a handful of words, spoken without her usual utmost calm and cool, she had plunged him into shock as well. Or rather, had plunged shock into him. It settled like pointed shards of ice in his stomach.

The mug dropped right out of his hand and fell soundlessly to the carpet. But it smashed noisily when he stood on it in his sudden surging jolt unto his feet. "If that was a joke, it's a lousy one," he breathed raggedly.

"I don't joke Uchiha," she heard herself say unevenly.

He gazed at her as if she had taken flight without wings before his eyes. "Say that again."

"I don't know why or how or what's going on Itachi—" she spluttered in horror as if the words had jumbled fiercely in her brain. "—but I'm positive that was Obito on the other end of the line," her breath snarled up in her throat.

Emotion sliced through Itachi. Shock and dismay were uppermost. But beneath both, another emotion stabbed. And there was no hope of subduing it.

Fear.

The _how_ didn't matter, neither did the _why_ or _when_. None of small details mattered—as crucial as they were to understand what was going on. All that mattered at the moment was that Obito had somehow made contact with Hidan and Tenten. And that could only mean trouble for them.

* * *

_A/N: I know. I know. Where the fuck have I been all this time? Why did the update take forever? Because I suck that's why. __I know this chapter was pure conversation, but I hope you found it enlightening, even just the tiniest bit. If not, then I've completely failed. I must apologize for the lack of ItaTen though :( It's there in subtext if you squint lol ;) She wants to be a writer...his dad's autobiography is unfinished...hint hint ;) There are loads more...just in subtext xD_

_Thank you so much for the previous birthday wishes and the lovely reviews. And as always I'm glad you took the time out to read. Feedback is always appreciated :)_


	26. Down Memory Lane

**Help Wanted**

**Chapter Twenty-Six — Down Memory Lane**

**Dedicated to Amy Roth**

* * *

"**This is how memory works: things disappear without your permission, then come back again without your permission. And sometimes they come back incomplete and warped." **

― **Kristin Cashore**

_Nine Hours Earlier_

"For the last time, I'm not besotted with Itachi. I'm not even sure I like the damn bastard," a red-hot blush crept up Tenten's slender throat and she could not trust herself to meet Hidan's gaze in the rearview mirror.

He snickered. "Then why are you so red?"

"I only ask that you make certain he takes his medication every day. That doesn't mean a thing," she muttered awkwardly.

How did she explain that the concept of Itachi dying filled her with panic? She couldn't even say that she liked him because, right now, she didn't like him at all. The cruelty with which he tossed his money at her had crippled something within her. It scared Tenten to acknowledge any kind of feelings for a man who could behave like that.

"He has a habit of neglecting his health," she confided softly, drinking in the sight beyond the car window with strained brown eyes.

Amegakure changed every few minutes on their journey. The downtown flickered between affluence and poverty as the vehicle weaved through labyrinth of roads. There were streets of up-market stores, smooth black and glass exteriors flaunting fancy names, in fancier lettering. The kind of places made all the more inviting with their air-conditioned atmospheres, music and well groomed subservient staff.

It was one of the Fire Country's wealthiest cities. About half a century ago though, it was known only for its abject poverty, bad weather and high crime rates. All of which were still prevalent in some areas.

"It means you actually give a fuck—" Hidan incised, levelled pink eyes pinning to her with questioning force. "—otherwise you wouldn't be asking me to play fucking nurse."

"Forget I asked," she told him hurriedly, keen to bring the conversation to a swift conclusion. He had been teasing her since the car swung out of Itachi's driveway and Tenten was close to tears. "With Konan there you won't have to trouble yourself," she added stiffly.

For a split-second she felt so corrosively bitter that it physically hurt to breathe. She had a feeling that woman was behind everything that happened this morning.

A wry smile of knowing curved Hidan's mouth.

There was a stretch of silence but he made no attempt to break it. The four-wheel-drive lurched and bounced over the appalling surface of a road that could only be described as a monochrome patchwork. It was lined with shiny boarders of tar and yet, despite these fixes there were still a number of cracks and potholes.

In moments they were passing run-down pawn shops and liquor stores. Misery permeated the place. It was soaked into the sidewalk cracks and into the graffitied walls. It was etched in every gaunt and dejected face that they drove pass. A few clung to holy books as if it was their last hope for something better.

Something that wouldn't come in this lifetime, Tenten knew. Rather it would come after they've passed from hunger, pneumonia or some other kind of infection. They were garbage—damaged bodies and damaged minds. Each one of them had a story. Just like she did.

It felt almost nostalgic to pass through—windows rolled up, doors locked, music on—except Tenten had always been on the other side. Outside. In back alleys where the few restaurants that persisted in trading had their garbage searched several times a day, and not just by stray cats.

She looked on, her emotions all over the place; her eyes stinging like mad. She had no other choice than to go back to where it all begun. That small impoverish town on the outskirts of Konoha. No one would expect her to. Not even Obito.

Her heart thumped sickly in her throat. She wanted to open the car door and take off like a jet plane. She wanted to leave everything about Amegakure that distressed her far behind—Itachi, to be specific. But Tenten knew that wherever she went, the torment of pain would remorselessly be trapped inside her. She was stuck with it.

And God forbids she ended up pregnant with his child. She'd be stuck with the pain forever, whether she kept the baby or not.

In a purring undertone that still sliced through the throbbing silence, Hidan spoke. "Hey Girl Scout."

"What is it?" she asked with a slight hiss of irritation.

He released his breath in a slow, sardonic exhalation, "The least you could've done was to not sound so fucking bitter about the prospect of Konan being around Itachi 24/7 now."

"As long as she ensures he takes his insulin then I don't care about that," Tenten declared, her chin coming up at a pugnacious angle because she was indignant at his assumption that she was jealous. But she was even more appalled by the spasm of guilt that his accusation had caused.

Was she really besotted with Itachi? And was she just lying to herself and making silly excuses in a forlorn effort to avoid facing the embarrassing truth?

Tenten was shaken by those inner questions, and in a sudden movement of denial waved him off. "If I'm to be completely honest, I'd like to see Itachi rot in hell. My concern is nothing but an act of saving face. I refuse to give another Uchiha the satisfaction of crushing me any further…" her voice petered out as a wave of giddiness momentarily left her head swimming.

"If you're going to be sick then roll down a fucking window," Hidan lifted a strong hand and brought it down again on the steering wheel in a compelling motion. "I just had these carpets cleaned."

A pulse beating suffocatingly fast in her throat, Tenten braced her hand against the back of the driver's seat to steady herself. "Carpets can be recleaned."

"Don't make me forget that I actually like you." A warning flare of magenta was glimmering in his gaze. "You don't fuck with my baby. It cost me six months without the comfort of a stripper to buy this bitch," he smoothed his palms over the dashboard.

Tenten's brain froze on one word. _Baby_

Raw panic threatened to eat her alive because she had never felt so dizzy before. Dizziness was not something she suffered from, so what was causing it? Oh, dear heaven—was it possible that she could be pregnant? How likely was it that she would get symptoms so soon?

She scolded herself for overreacting, but she still kept the fear below the surface of her mind. Unfortunately it would be another week before she could put that fear to rest.

Brown curls streamed back from her face as her chin came up. "I'm not going to be sick. I haven't slept in three nights and I think it's finally catching up on me."

"Up all night worrying about dear old Itachi huh?" Hidan shot back at her, fast as the speed of light.

Tenten blushed furiously.

"Cute as fuck," he chuckled.

"My life doesn't revolve around that pig," she protested painfully, deeply aggrieved. She didn't want to think about Itachi or the fact that he had so callously kicked her out on her birthday. "I wish you would stop insinuating that it does."

"Whoa, what's with the name calling?"

"Itachi is an asshole," she squeezed her stinging eyes shut and trembled. So much pain—more pain than she had ever experienced, and that in itself was frightening. "I hope I never have to see him again."

"Oh really?"

Her mouth wobbled and then compressed. "Yes."

"You don't have to lie." He dragged his smouldering gaze away from her to focus on the road ahead. They were in suburbia now, rows of uniformed houses and neatly mowed lawns. "We're leaving Amegakure now. Where exactly am I taking you?"

Where exactly was she going? Tenten struggled valiantly to think but at that point her brain was already switching off and she lowered herself unto the warm, comforting solidarity of the leather seat.

Yes, she admitted wearily, for two out of those three nights she did lie awake perturbed by Itachi's ailment. Last night however, it was rather her own sickness that troubled her.

Sickness of the heart.

She knew that being easily dispensable was a compromise that came with signing Itachi's contract, by default. But she never anticipated being thrown out on her face like that, after the night they shared together.

Had their passionate response to each other been that misleading, that she'd imagined there was something between them? Something that was causing her all this pain—the only intangible thing that could hurt worse than any physical blow. Her mouth turned down expressively at the particular word that came to mind, because it did not exist.

Not in the context of her relationship with Itachi.

Everything between them had always been strictly business. Though from the moment she met him, Tenten became virtually fascinated with Itachi. The fact that his younger brother had once been the unwitting target of her childish crush had made her even more susceptible to his dark and brooding good looks.

She fell into bed with him because she could not resist him, not because of their contract. There, Tenten reflected heavily, she was finally being honest with herself. Only being honest made her feel infinitely more vulnerable.

Moisture dripped on her clenched fists and when she lifted an uncertain hand to her damp face, Tenten discovered that she was crying. It was so very hard to try and remain calm over Itachi's accusations, as unspoken as there were. But those same accusations revealed so much about him.

From the outset Itachi had been sickly suspicious of her. He had probably fought hard against the attraction between them and, even in succumbing to that attraction, he had still been on red alert for anything to condemn her for.

Her history with Obito was apparently enough for Itachi, and he obviously thought she had deliberately sought his bed. He believed her to have been by Obito to get close to him. It didn't take a genius to figure it out. After he saw the brand mark, he completely lost his shit.

Itachi ran true to type, Tenten reflected numbly. Hot-blooded, rash, suspicious and jealous—the archetypal smouldering Uchiha. Yet it was so difficult to equate that image with the arctic, self-contained male who had rejected her this morning. Had it been beneath his precious dignity to reveal the extent to which he believed himself to have been deceived? He may not have called her a whore but indeed, in retrospect, she realized that Itachi had been remarkably restrained earlier.

It was almost laughable that he could have believed her to steep in sexual sin in the name of revenge—vengeance on someone else's behalf. But Tenten couldn't laugh, had never felt further from laughter. A shudder of revulsion assailed her.

She felt agonizingly hurt and bitter and it was that incredible pain which she now feared most of all. Her pride and her principles revolted against the image Itachi now had of her. Being treated like a scarlet woman might have briefly appealed to her sense of humour if she had been putting on act but—

It was like having a knife driven into her heart. Her stomach twisted sickly.

—Tenten would never ever forget how close she had come to loving the bastard.

The memory would always be there in the back of her mind, reminding her of a time she had been vulnerable, a time she had found someone staggeringly attractive on a purely physical level, and that something inside her which she was deeply ashamed of had made her behave more outrageously around Uchiha Itachi than she would ever have dreamt of behaving around any other man.

Why was that? Was there actually a part of her which had rejoiced in his desire for her body? Could she be that stupid? Or could it be that she had used him in the same way he used her?

Nonsense, she scolded herself and slid into sleep.

A few hours later her nose twitched on the smell of fish, earth and spice, underpinning the fumes from belching vehicles. Her heavy eyelids lifted slowly.

The slight forward thrust of the vehicle heralded their arrival—somewhere.

She woke up in a hurry, jerking upright. Somehow she had been moved to the front passenger's seat but that was the least of her worries. "We've stopped. Why have we stopped?"

Tenten blinked hard and looked out the side window.

It took her all of three minutes to realize where she was. Sheer shock grabbed her by the throat. The place had grown into a dense and cluttered town since she left a few years back. The buildings were an amazing jumble of different styles: rickety wooden shops, marble and brick houses, huge stone churches. Everything looked beaten down and baked by the sun—and sunlight was everywhere: in the dust, in the vivid colors, in the smells of spices and overripe fruit in the nearby market.

Her lower lip dropped as she stared, for she had no recollection of telling him she intended to return to Konoha. "Why are we here?" she asked on the edge of panic.

"What kind of fucking question is that?" Hidan breathed with a chilling bite and treated her to a sizzling glance over his shoulders. "Aren't you from Konoha?"

She lowered her head, feeling foolish. Of course he knew she was from Konoha. She had drunkenly blurted it to him and the rest of Itachi's subordinates that night they came over to taste test the wines. "How long have I been asleep? It must've taken at least eight—"

"—eight fucking hours of listening to you snore," he derided. "Itachi fucking owes me a shit load of gas money for this. You're lucky I like you, Girl Scout. Or I would've dumped your cute little ass at the nearest fucking bus stop."

"Perhaps you should've," her voice seemed to come from far away.

"Once we get into the city you're on your fucking own. I'm done playing chauffeur."

_On your own._

The words echoed over and over in her head.

"On my own," Tenten went very still.

Almost as if she were a statue, Hidan thought irrelevantly. He went on studying her for the space of another heartbeat as she sat there, perfectly motionless, as if frozen in time. Nothing seemed to register in those big brown eyes—arrestingly beautiful eyes set in a face that even Itachi's high standards for female allure could not fault.

"I know it's none of my business," He scratched his head, unsure why he was even making an attempt to set her mind at ease. But she was just sitting there, and something in her very stillness made the tension pull at him. Tension he did not want to feel. "Don't take any of this personal. It's not you. It's Itachi."

Somewhat cliché and meaningless, the words fell into the space between them.

For the space of another heartbeat time held still. An eternity of time in the briefest span. Then, like a film starting to play again, her body unfroze. With her customary graceful movements she undid her seat belt and made to exit the car.

"Are you crazy? This place can hardly be considered Konoha. We haven't entered the city yet."

He was right. This region wasn't considered a part of Konoha—at least not anymore. Today it was dubbed _The Konohian Ruins_. It had apparently been completely forgotten by the city council when Konoha underwent renovation after the Great War. The town only served as a historical site or an indicator to travelers that they were close to entering Konoha.

This place had been built by greed and abandoned without a backwards glance. Centuries ago settlers came with the allure of diamond in the streams and left in bitterness, resenting the land for its failure to deliver. That was what the folktales said.

Hidan leaned across, closing a hand over Tenten's to stop her. "Where the fuck are you going?"

"I'm going home," she answered. Her voice was serene, untroubled. "Thank you for the lift, though I suppose a _lift_ wasn't exactly what this was?" Her tone was conversational, unexceptional. "Be sure to reimburse yourself for the gas before returning Itachi's money to him."

There was no emotion in her face as she spoke.

She would permit none.

Then she snatched her hand from underneath his and stared blindly ahead. Slowly—very slowly—her fingers curved into the palms of her hand.

Gouging deep.

"It was nice to have met you," still showing nothing in her eyes except politeness.

He frowned, "You're not taking the money? You fucking earned it."

At that, tears swam in her eyes and she wrinkled her nose to hold them at bay.

Her mind darted, like dragonflies scything across a pond with sharp, knifing movements. She wondered what the dragonflies in her head were. Then she knew.

Knew by their iridescent wings, their flash as they caught the light.

They were memories of how she had _earned_ that money.

So many memories.

Stabbing and darting through her head. Memory after memory. As sharp as knives. Working through time, taking her back and forth. The memories shamed her. They made her want to strip herself bare and scrub her skin raw.

Bastard, Tenten thought, still absolutely shattered by Itachi's cruelty. She had believed herself to be falling in love, had held nothing back, had for a fleeting moment believed she was lucky that someone like Itachi had chosen her out a hundreds of girls to bear him a child.

But now shame and self-disgust drenched her and she hated him for that. He didn't have to make her sound so cheap,did he? In the most essential way of all, she had been innocent, and there had been nothing calculated about her response to him, despite what he thought. How could he believe her to be in allegiance with someone like Obito?

"What is it Girl's Scout?" Hidan turned her to him.

Tears were running down her face. Quietly, silently.

He gave a soft rasp in his throat. Then he put his arms around her, drawing her to him, holding her against him as they sat together, side by side. And still her tears came—so quietly, so silently.

Making words unnecessary.

Not that he knew the right words to say to her. He swore to Itachi that he wouldn't say a thing about their blood relation. In some twisted way Hidan understood the man's reasoning for wanting to keep the truth from her. He didn't wish to traumatize Tenten any further than her childhood had clearly traumatized her.

Still, it didn't make any sense to him that she was Obito and Rin's child. But if it were not so, then Konan would've told him otherwise when she got the results from the lab this morning, no? She wouldn't continue to let Itachi think he'd been sleeping with his cousin if that wasn't the case, would she?

No she wouldn't. Konan cared about him too much. Hidan's chiseled jaw line clenched and his eyes narrowed. Something didn't sit well with him. That wouldn't stop Konan from holding off telling Itachi the truth until Tenten was successfully out of the way. It was no secret that she wasn't too fond of her.

"I'm sorry," Tenten gasped, suddenly swinging away from him, her voice embarrassingly choked. She was as pale as death, her hair like brown flames against the pallor of her skin. Her bruised eyes were filled with tears. "I'm so pathetic."

"Don't fucking apologize," he grouched, sliding back in behind the wheel. "Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

His mind was doing strange things to him, despite the self-control he was ruthlessly exerting on himself right now. Exactly what had Itachi said to the poor girl to leave her this distraught? And why did he even care?

"Yeah. It's just that I thought—" Tenten sniffed and wiped at her eyes. "—I just thought that I stopped getting kicked out on my birthday years ago," she vented a shaky little laugh.

Obito did it to her on her fifteenth, sixteenth, seventeenth and eighteenth birthday. The only difference was that Obito came back for her. Itachi wouldn't. It was only for a fraction of a second, but the realization was like the tip of a whip across her heart.

Hidan's eyebrows quirked up, "Today's your fucking birthday?"

She nodded once.

He laughed, a wild trill of mad amusement at the irony. "That fucking Uchiha really knows how to make a fucking woman feel special doesn't he?"

There was a long silence, chocolate eyes meshed with strawberry. Then he surged the powerful vehicle onwards. "Well then, fuck Itachi! Let's get you fucked up. Drinks are on me," he declared, not giving her the opportunity to reject the offer.

Tenten sat silently surveying the passing scenery for the time it took to reach the tiny, pub huddled despondently among the derelict buildings in the inner city suburb. This part of Konoha had less charm than a graveyard; at least those are places were built out of sentimentality and love. And yet, nowhere had she felt quite at home as these capriciously cruel streets.

She gave an inaudible sigh of relief when the car slowed and turned into the parking space adjacent the bar. Basking in how much the place had changed since Zabuza elevated her out of material poverty would mean taking her eye off her shoes, and Tenten knew from experience that wasn't a wise thing to do in these parts.

Another wave of nostalgia hit her as she sat across from Hidan, nursing a glass of whisky. This pub was where she made her only friend in high school, huddled over a bottle of potent amber liquid. On this very day. The ninth of March. This very table—Tenten mused, running her free hand across its surface—battered pinewood with dents from knives and forks, pens and pencils. How much of life happened around this unassuming piece of furniture?

The legs still had evidence of having been chewed on by Pakkun—Mr. Hatake's puppy.

This used to be Kakashi's spot. Every year, so long as the ninth of March fell on a school day, she knew not to expect him in his office. Briefly she wondered if he still made annual trips to the pub on this day and whether he had already stopped by. It would be nice to see him again—to know that he was well.

Though, Tenten supposed it wouldn't be wise make contact with him or linger too long here. After all, her teacher's yearly visit to this very bar was the reason Obito had kicked her out on four consecutive birthdays. What if he decided to come by? Just to check that the tradition he had opted to put an end to had really stopped.

She used to sit with Kakashi every year in this bar. At this very table. On this day. Whilst she celebrated life, he mourned the loss of his child.

Coming to think of it, Itachi had mentioned something about the possibility of Rin having conceived a child by Kakashi. It was such a small world, Tenten mused. She would never have thought that the woman Kakashi spoke of—the one who had miscarried his child, was the very same one Obito obsessed over.

Then again, it was beginning to make sense why he was so wary of Tenten getting close to Kakashi. And perhaps one of the reasons Kakashi took such a liking to her in the first place was her resemblance to Rin.

Tenten frowned, mulling over the entire situation. What was so great about one woman?

Hidan rose his glass to her, "Cheers Girl Scout. My boss no longer has to live with the fear of being charged for carnal abuse anymore. Let fuck be free."

Her laugh had a reckless edge to it, "I'm twenty-two and _Happy Birthday_ would've sufficed, Hidan." She touched her glass to his with a light _clink _and gave him a small smile.

Despite his foul nature she had been drawn to Hidan more than any other of Itachi's colleagues. It was his silver hair. The sight always brought her reassurance and comfort—like her guidance counselor always did.

Already her worries were beginning to fade, even before the first taste. Just watching the liquor's gentle vortex was hypnotizing enough. At the moment there was no Itachi, no Obito trying to slaughter her, no fetus to worry over; there was just aged single-malt direct from the Rice City. It was her one vice and she intended to make a virtue of it, savour it, not race to the bottom of the bottle like she had the first time alcohol was offered to her.

By Hatake Kakashi himself.

When the liquid settled Tenten brought it to her lips, letting it sit in her mouth a while before swallowing.

Memory flickered.

OoOoOo

_Traffic lights blinked to control the non-existent cars._

_Just standing amid the town was enough to make her feel like a ghost, an unwanted spectre of some __sort—in the s__ame way the town was an unwanted part of Konoha. It would probably never be like those polished upper class neighbourhoods, but its alley walls had the finest artwork spray painted every night._

_Tenten found herself looking for graffiti that hadn't previously been there. It had been a while since she last visited the Ruins. She had even been advised by Obito not to return. But Mr. Hatake's secretary said this was where she would him. Of course, when Kurenai revealed that bit of information the woman wasn't expecting Tenten to skip school to personally locate the guidance counselor._

_What could be so important that the child couldn't wait until tomorrow? Tenten didn't know the answer to that herself. Her gut told her to seek him out today and she usually went with her gut feeling. _

_She heard from some of the other students that every year on this day he went to some Hentai convention where fellow fans of the erotic Icha Icha novels met up. But Tenten knew that to be untrue. Frankly she wouldn't have minded if it were so because her gut was telling her something was actually wrong._

_Why else would he not turn up to school? Sure Mr. Hatake was always late, but absent? Never._

_Tenten skirted one of several yawning puddles as she crossed an intersection, and on reaching the pavement she hastily sought cover beneath a sheltering shop's verandah. It was one of the coldest, wettest days to befall Konoha, she decided ruefully as she surveyed her windswept reflection in an adjacent shop window. Her school uniform was damp from the raindrops and so was her wavy chestnut shoulder-length hair. _

_On reaching the old pub that washed out under the overcast sky, hunched in itself, fighting against the drizzle, Tenten entered and paused in contemplative silence. A few customers glanced up as the door swung open, heralded by a blast of cold wind. _

_Unlike the outside, the interior of the bar was warm. There were however, many new establishments that were far more inviting—all clean with waiting staff. Not the "Thousand Years of Pain." Tenten had always known this bar to be a den of debauchery, alcoholism and the great unwashed of the town. It still was. No one ever set foot inside with anything wholesome in mind._

_It made her wonder why it attracted a man like Mr. Hatake._

_As the door swung closed behind the new entrant, the customers returned to their conversations, the cold breeze forgotten.__ The smell of cigars and stale beer clung like perfume to clothing, skin and furniture alike. Beneath that was the __welcoming scent of hot chocolate wafting through the air, calling her cold and weary legs to take a rest._

_On reaching the bar counter Tenten met the faintly enquiring glance directed her, and countered it coolly. "I'm eighteen," she lied aloud, above the wave of chatter and the clink of glasses and rustle of newspaper._

_The bartender leaned over the bar, her black hair lying over one shoulder as she took in Tenten's attire. She could feel agitation increasing her heart-rate. What if Mr. Hatake was a no show and someone called the cops on her? What then? Obito would have her head if she ran into trouble with the law._

_He was always making a fuss about 'keeping a low profile'. Whatever that was supposed to mean..._

"_I'd like to see some identification please." The woman stared fixedly at her, "Don't I know your face from somewhere?"_

_Tenten dug with deceptive purpose into her purse. She knew damn well that she didn't have the kind of identification that could save her hide from getting in trouble. "I doubt it."_

_She stood to her full height and she grinned down at Tenten with the unabashed friendliness of a spaniel puppy. "It was a face I envied—kept stealing all the boys back in the day." She mocked cheerfully with a wink. "I suppose you're popular with the boys over at Konoha High?"_

_Confused, Tenten shook her head. "Not that I know of, ma'am."_

"_What a coincidence! You're just as disgustingly modest," she grumbled, coiling slender fingers around a bottle. She gave it a cursory inspection, her mouth hardening. "You're not fooling anyone girlie. This isn't a place for kids." She sent her a savage look. "Did you come in here on a dare?"_

_Tenten shook her head._

"_Just turned sixteen and came in for a celebratory shot?" She enquired idly. "Just had your first period—?"_

"_Fifteen," Tenten interposed matter-of-factly. "But no. I'm looking for one of my teachers."_

_She raked her eyes over Tenten once more and proclaimed silkily that, "I'd bet my life savings on exactly who you're looking for. I only hope he knows what he's doing." _

_Wide, brown eyes stared steadily back at the woman. Tenten felt a little riled up over all the nuances she was picking up from her words. They didn't strike as inappropriate at all and perhaps that was the reason for her flustered state. If the lady had been making sexual innuendos then at least she would've had justified reasons to feel the way she did, but Tenten couldn't quite wrap her finger around why the woman's idle musings left her so unsettled._

_"You could pass for her reincarnation..."_

_"Who?"_

_A moment hesitation clouded the bartender's features before she lolled her head to one side, pushing out her lips just a little. Then she bellowed over the heavy metal music, "Hey Hatake! Either you've got another one of those stalker teenage girls or someone is trying to indulge in some under aged drinking before third period."_

_Tenten slipped onto one of the bar stools with a sense of relief at the sound of that name. Her motives for being here weren't misunderstood. Thank Heavens. She feared Obito's wrath more than the police's._

_Her relief lasted less than a second._

"_There's no need to shout Anko, I'm right here."_

_The deep, voice on her right made Tenten's head whip round._

_Mr. Hatake was seated beside her. A crystal glass half filled with amber-coloured spirits rested in one hand, the other thrust into his trouser pocket. "I hope you'll enjoy the detention as much as I'm enjoying all this attention, Kaoru."_

_Tenten swallowed. Panic and the silly urge to get to her feet and bolt sliced through her. Instantly she fought to subdue it. There was no point in that, he had already seen her. Whether or not she fled wouldn't change that. It wouldn't stop her from getting detention either._

"_I hope you have a very good explanation for having skipped school."_

_Why have I skipped school? She flailed around in her mind, trying to find the defense she needed. She still didn't know the answer to that. 'Her gut told her to' didn't seem like an acceptablue enough response so she swallowed it._

"_Mr. Hatake, isn't it?" She hesitated over his name, as if she had difficulty recalling it—as if she hadn't just pronounced it perfectly moments ago. Then she made a show of flicking open a paper napkin from the counter and spreading it over her knees. "I could ask you the same thing."_

_It was a failed attempt of ignorance. _

_Anko shook her head and made a tutting sound. "Is this kid for real? She just said your name not too long ago."_

_Mr. Hakate's eyes were veiled but they crinkled at the sides. "Yeah, she's a very strange one. She actually shows up to our scheduled meetings. I've never seen anyone quite as enthusiastic or who actually takes guidance and counselling so seriously." Then quite effusively he went on to taunt Tenten, "If you're developing stalker tendencies, I think a restraining order makes more sense than detention, don't you think?"_

_Tenten pouted in a fit of childish ire. Sometimes it was hard to distinguish between playful teasing and the malicious kind. She didn't socialize a lot, outside of their sessions. _

_He reached across and ruffled her hair. "Can't go a day without unloading your problems on me, can yah? Don't you have any friends? It's been six months since you started the school."_

_Embarrassed colour flared out along her cheeks and she slapped his hand away. Eyes shadowed, she mumbled, "No one wants to be friends with a dunce like me."_

"_So what makes you think I would either?" His voice was expressionless. His swift glance was impossible to discern as well._

_Tenten went pale. White as a sheet. She felt that rejection lash through her like the tail of a whip. Her one confidant associated with her because it was his job, not because he genuinely cared about her problems. Damn, her life really was pathetic. She ditched school to check on someone who considered her as nothing but another zero on his pay cheque._

"_I apologize sir," she lowered her head, her voice hollow and strained. "I didn't know that was how your viewed our—I'll not trouble you anymore." Emotion was storming through her. Making it hard to speak. Impossible to think. _

_Obito had foretold the disappointment she would face if she grew attached to this particular teacher. He warned her that Mr. Hatake didn't care about anyone but himself. Tenten had thought he spoke in anger at seeing the man's arm around her but—_

_To make a long story short, she was being teased and he came to her aid. _

—_now it was becoming apparent that all those times the Uchiha rasped at her, he was speaking from experience. Tenten struggled however, to make any connection between the two men._

"_I went to turn in my journal this morning and I saw that you weren't in your office," she eased off the stool as if to retreat but his hand closed over her elbow like a vice. "I was concerned." _

_He went to his feet as well, still holding her elbows and looking down at her. "You're the first to concern yourself with my absence in all the years I've been a counselor at Konoha High." His voice was no longer dry. It was no longer expressionless. His black eyes sparked with deliberate humour. "You're not like my usual fangirls."_

_She swallowed the lump in her throat with difficulty. He had it all wrong. "What?"_

_His eyes gleamed at her confusion. "I'm joking, just as I was moments ago. Don't be so sensitive." Then he turned slightly to regard the bartender. "Anko," he acknowledged blandly. "It's not every day a young lady turns fifteen. Prepare something special for Kaoru."_

_The woman dutifully moved to the drinks cabinet and replenished Mr. Hatake's glass. She then filled a delicate fluted glass from a decanter and handed it to Tenten._

_She accepted it in silence._

"_Mineral water," Anko winked. "On the house."_

_Once they secured a table in the corner, Mr. Hatake began tolerantly, "Now." He leaned back into his chair, lifted his glass and slowly drank half the contents. "What brings you here—besides me of course?"_

_Tenten relieved herself of her knapsack, set her glass down on the table and ran her palms idly over the surface. The dark pinewood was smooth and had the lustrous quality of well waxed wood. She could tell the table was new. Compared to the others, that was._

"_I used to live not too far from here actually," she volunteered, opting to talk about something else. She still had no idea what possessed her to trail the man to this pub. _

"_Back when you were homeless?" He was looking at her curiously and she could see he was about to pursue the subject. She knew she must head him off instantly. It was dangerous ground—far, far too dangerous._

_There were some things she wasn't comfortable sharing just yet. The reality of having been homeless for eight years and unschooled for fourteen was humiliating enough. The details would have to be spared until a later date. Still she nodded._

_He seemed to pick up on her disquiet. "Interesting."_

_The word fell into the silence. A silence Tenten did not feel the need to break. She simply sat there basking in his comforting presence. She did not know what it was about Mr. Hatake that made her feel so protected and at peace. He always knew when to press an issue and when to back down. It may not be telepathy but they shared something special. That's what Tenten believed._

_Or maybe he was right and she really needed to get herself some friends within her own age group. A sense of isolation began to creep over her._

_She made to moisten her dry mouth and only when she had tilted the glass to her lips did she discover that what she had chastely believed to be water was, in fact, some form of tonsil-searing alcohol. Choking, tears springing to her eyes, she shoved the glass aside in disgust and burst into an angry speech about her guardian finding out he gave her liquor._

"_I neither served nor forced you to drink that," he reminded her with a twisted smile. It creased his lips but did not quite reach his eyes. "Made any plans for tonight? I know how you young folks like to make a big deal out of birthdays."_

"_Special plans? I wouldn't know about those," Tenten confessed shyly. "This is my first birthday."_

_Mr. Hatake's expression—as forced as it was—lost its smile. "That makes no sense," he shook his head._

"_Sure it does," She gave a gush of laughter as insincere as it was overdone. "I didn't know that I was born on the ninth of March until recently. My new guardian was the one who informed me. Every year this day would just pass by like any—"_

"—_ordinary day," Mr. Hatake finished grimly. "I know."_

_Tenten studied him carefully, her eyes colliding with tormented dark ones There was something rather off about his whole demeanour today. His cheeks were reddening, his eyes becoming pouchy. His glass was frequently refilled, and she wondered how much he'd had to drink. _

"_Is something the matter sir?" she questioned._

_In his hand, his glass was rock-steady. Not a tremor. His eyes fixated on her face, limpid, untroubled. As if she had merely uttered a pleasantry of no consequence or significance._

"_Fifteen," he said, sounding as though a section of his brain had dissociated itself from the rest of him and was operating in a space all of its own._

"_Excuse me?" she arched a brow._

_For one last heartbeat Mr. Hatake held the glass, then slowly—infinitely slowly—lowered it to the table. His face blanched. "My son or daughter would've been fifteen today."_

_Shocked by that admission, Tenten stared him, hoping to catch__ any fleeting expression. "Fifteen years old? Aren't you a little too young to have a child that old?"_

_His mouth set into a bloodless line. "A few years back in college I—" His voice choked suddenly, and Tenten instinctively settled her small hand on top of his. _

_She could feel the raw tension still sizzling through him. He was as rigid as a mannequin. It told her more than enough. "I understand."_

"—_the child died shortly after birth. I wasn't there," he muttered unevenly. "The mother handled everything after that and we never spoke of it again. She didn't even think to tell me the gender," he breathed starkly._

_Tenten smoothed out the fingers of his tightly clenched hand. Anger etched into the hard lines around his mouth._

_Something like a blow struck her. It was sudden pain, hurting her. "That's why you come here every year? And I—" she pressed her lips. Tried to look away, but could not. Yet she could not meet his eyes either. She had overstepped her boundaries. _

_Without conjuring the will to do so, Tenten took an over-large gulp of the alcoholic content within her neglected glass as punishment. Obito had burnt into her psyche, the idea of disciplining one's self whenever one fell out of line. Belatedly she found that when she punished herself in some type of way for having flouted Obito, the penalty was less severe._

_When she spoke, her words were heavy. "—I imposed on your private mourning."_

"_Don't worry about it." His words were slowly spoken. He shut his eyes a moment, then opened them again, and in them was something that made Tenten feel bad for ever having mentioned that it was her birthday. _

"_I didn't mean to bring back any bad memories," she apologized._

"_Don't make that face," his chided when he glimpsed the tears welling behind her eyes. __"My little bit of heaven gave me pure hell for fifteen years." He smiled a brief, social smile that barely indented his mouth. "But today, your presence is somehow making it bearable, Kaoru."_

OoOoOo

Tenten's head jerked up at that, her cheeks warming as she found Hidan regarding her enquiringly. "Earth to Girl Scout," he snapped his fingers at her.

"Where have I heard that before?" she wondered, shaking her head as if to clear it and hurriedly fixing her attention elsewhere. "A little bit of heaven."

Then as if she had lifted a floodgate memory poured into her head, and for one long, endless moment she was three years old again.

Like a stiletto sliding in between her synapses, an image came into her mind. Auburn hair, curving in a smooth swathe over one shoulder, long dark lashes and chocolate brown eyes.

Eyes that were looking at her with such fondness, it was impossible to deny—impossible to hide.

A face with a warm smile

A face quite similar to the one that looked back at her whenever she looked in the mirror.

Tenten's memory fled back to that face. Although all her life she felt the desolation of a child utterly abandoned by its parents, she couldn't help but remember...

OoOoOo

"_Did you give me this stupid name?" Tenten's small brows snapped together in what appeared to be self-condemnation._

_The pretty lady who claimed to be her kaa-san smiled at her, "You don't like the name Tenten?"_

_Tenten shook her head furiously._

"_But it's such a pretty name," she argued, ruffling her chestnut bang playfully. "It means heaven."_

_Unconvinced her pout did not waver. "That's not what the lady said. She said it meant here-there because nobody wants me so I am always moving around," Tenten huffed._

"_That's not true sweetie. I want you," the nice lady said. Her soft voice hitched on a sob. "I am so sorry that I wasn't there but—" she pressed her lips to Tenten's forehead and the first tear slipped from her eyes. "—but I am here now and everything—"_

_The girl flinched, not accustomed to such show of affection. "Then why did you leave me?"_

"_Do you want to know why I named you Tenten?" she asked cheerily after a moment of seemingly debating with herself._

_Tenten shrugged uncaringly. It was answers that her little heart desired the most._

"_Your otou-san once said that you were a little bit of heaven that would raise all of hell when you were born―" she told her with a mirthless giggle and scratched at the back of her head. "―especially if our parents were to find out about you."_

"_Tou-san?" Tenten's eyes sparkled with intrigue. They were large and bold, framed with thick lashes, the colour of unvarnished oak with deep mahogany flecks―similar to the woman's. _

_Somewhere she could hear birdsong. She looked around her and smiled. They might be in the middle of nowhere but to Tenten it was an oasis of beauty. Of quietness. And peace._

_Peace of the heart._

_Slowly, very slowly, in the warm, peaceful quietness, she reached for her kaa-san's hand. It closed over hers, their fingers winding into each others. _

"_I have a tou-san?"_

OoOoOo

Rin.

The realization came like a blow to the head. Emotion sliced through Tenten. Shock and dismay were uppermost.

"Am I really that little bit of heaven?" Her heart was gripped by a vice.

The pieces were finally beginning to slide into place; the reason she had Rin's necklace in her possesion, the reason for Obito's feeling of ill towards her, the reason Kakashi mourned the loss of his child on her birthday...

Everything was beginning to make sense now.

"Fuck, you look like you've just seen a ghost," Hidan noted, tossing back another glass of whisky.

"I have," Tenten rested her gaze rested on him, half-blind still, torn still between memory and reality, she told him grimly. "Me."

He frowned at her. "What?"

There had been a car crash that day, she remembered. And for a moment her whole body seemed to bear testimony. Memory leaped back, seizing her throat, making her breath catch chokingly.

She absently touched a hand to her forehead, "I had hit my head," she whispered to herself.

"Are you fucking drunk already? I forgot you were fucking lightweight." Hidan rasped. "What the fuck do you mean by _me_?"

Memory sliced through her every cell. Memory of sensations so excruciating, so excoriating that they were felt too real to refute.

Tenten swallowed, "I mean...I think I'm supposed to be dead."

* * *

**A/N: Oh dear, I hope no one fell asleep in the middle of this. I'd hate for you guys to get tired of the story before all the cute stuff. This chapter happens a few hours before the previous one so that's why a certain sociopath hasn't cameoed yet. This was actually supposed to be posted on March 9th but we are waaaay behind schedule. Please forgive me :(**

**Anyone on android? Uses this site's official app? FF now has an app. Add me as a friend for easy ****communication through Instant Messaging etc ;) As always thank you for taking the time out to read. Your support means the world to me. Reviews are always appreciated :)**


	27. Another Fated Encounter

**Help Wanted**

**Chapter Twenty-Seven — Another Fated Encounter **

**Dedicated to Cat Beats**

* * *

**"There are no coincidences in life. What person that wandered in and out of your life was there for some purpose, even if they caused you harm. Sometimes, it doesn't make sense the short periods of time we get with people, or the outcomes from their choices. However, if you turn it over to God he promises that you will see the big picture in the hereafter. Nothing is too small to be a mistake."**

—**Shannon L. Alder**

Cold ran in her veins. Tenten could not speak, could not think. Could only sit, clutching her glass with shock, disbelief and horror. Like sharp stabs, memory darted through her mind.

"_What's tou-san like? Why didn't he come with you to meet me?"_

_There was a long pause. "He's going to be very excited to meet you."_

That had been a lie. How could he have been enthused about meeting someone he believed to be dead? Shocked would've been a better word.

The cold intensified. A hysterical bubble rose in her throat and she swallowed it back down.

Rin was dead, which meant that Tenten had no chance of meeting the woman who gave birth to her. There would be no emotional reunion or awkward attempt to catch up, like she had always fantasized. There would be nothing, because nothing changed. Except if one counted her intensified heart ache.

Hidan set down his beer. "What makes you think you're supposed to be dead?" he asked, his voice low and measured.

In the gloom of the pub where their knees almost touched under the narrow table, conversations were being told in loud voices, competing with one another to be heard above their collective din.

Her fingers tightened around the base of her glass.

"—_the child died shortly after birth. I wasn't there. The mother handled everything after that and we never spoke of it again. She didn't even think to tell me the gender."_

The brunette's expression darkened. Was that the bald, blunt truth of it? Did Rin hide her existence from Kakashi by faking her death? Why would she do that? It didn't make any sense. Was she really their daughter? Or was all of this just one big coincidence?

Tenten could feel her thoughts running on unstoppably, ineluctably. She could feel emotion roil within her as suspicion barbed her with poisonous darts. That ghost from her past trailed its cold tendrils in her head.

_Her stomach growled loudly but she grinned sheepishly, "What sorts of food does tou-san like?"_

_Rin paused to raise an amused brow at her. "In keeping with __**the meaning of his**__**family name**__ he's __**big on fruits and vegetables**__," she chortled at the grimace on Tenten's face._

"_He sounds stick."_

"_You mean strict?" she snorted, pinching her cheeks. "How cute you are."_

_Tenten blinked at her. A flush raced over her face and down her neck because she had never been called cute before. _

"_No. Don't be fooled by his love of healthy foods. Your otou-san is quite a __**closet-delinquent**__," Rin followed up with another crack of laughter. _

"Kaa-san." The word was low and hoarse, edged with pain.

Petite in height, chestnut-brown hair, chocolate brown eyes. Their likeness was such that had Rin been alive today they might've been mistaken for twins—now Tenten knew why.

"Mother. Mom."

Hidan looked at her strangely, as though seeing a different person. Except that she was in fact a different person, Tenten mulled. The revelation made that all too clear.

She bit her lip, fighting a well of tears that took a lot of blinking back.

"_Water?"_

_Tenten turned slightly and met Mr. Hakate's dark gaze. _

"_Yes—thank you?" She watched idly as he filled a glass and then she took it from him to sip the contents with concerted dedication. "Is this one of the new spirits from that company over in Amegakure?"_

_At home, Obito's mini-bar housed every product ever released by Uchiha Spirits. She never understood his fixation with that specific brand but having sampled a few of its products she supposed she could._

"_A stalker and an alcoholic?" He drawled, placing the bottle back in his drawer. "I see why you need counseling," he observed with thinly veiled mockery, and she retaliated swiftly._

"_Like hell I do," she said inelegantly, and he laughed._

"_Yes it is," he confirmed in a low voice, almost unrecognizable as his. "The company is run by the cousin of an old friend of mine."_

"_Does that mean you get discounts and stuff?" she enquired, making small talk. _

_This office was her salvation. Somehow her differences and shortcomings were not only accepted but celebrated here. Mr. Hatake told her that it was okay to be unique—okay to have risen out of unique circumstances. It made their sessions far more interesting. Him, with a shock of white hair despite his young age and her—a fifteen year old who was fifty years scarred. That was how it was supposed to be, he had told her. Like a meadow instead of a neatly trimmed lawn._

_There was a long pause before he answered. "No. Those ties have long since been severed." He stopped skipping through the pages of the book his nose was buried in and looked up at her. "I stole this from the headmistress' stash. It's pretty light but don't go drinking it all in one gulp."_

"_You're not like the other teachers," she said, taking an over-large gulp in the hope that the alcoholic content would inject an instant dose of spontaneity so that she could face Obito when he returned to pick her up from school. _

_Someone had informed Tenten that her ride came and left after waiting in the parking lot for about an hour and a half._

_No matter how much of the liquid she drank, her mouth was still a dry desert. It was now minutes to six and she knew there'd be hell to pay for this._

"_What makes you say that?" one of Mr. Hatake's eyebrows arched coyly. _

_She shrugged, "Well, all the other students think you're this strict authoritarian but—"_

_Dark eyes swept over her face with quizzical amusement._

"—_you're just a __**closet-delinquent**__," she chortled, thinking the words sounded familiar somehow. "I mean, the whole school knows about your obsession with that adult novel—" she pointed to the abandoned book and wrinkled her nose. "—and that you're always late. But you serve me alcohol and sweets, deeming them therapeutic treats."_

"_With the purest of intentions," he cut in mockingly. "I consider you my friend. Friends drink together."_

_It was Tenten's turn to lift an eyebrow, but it was in silent reproof. "You do know that I'm under aged, right?"_

_Not that she cared. It was nice to share a bond with someone—to have a thing that was exclusively between them and no one else. It was wrong, but in a world where nothing was right, it didn't make a damn difference. It wasn't as if they drove each other to drink. That would hint at something toxic. No. What they shared was an ability to instill in each other the courage to seek out what brought them peace of mind. Whether that thing was material or intangible by nature._

"_You do know that saying 'no' was always an option, right?" he parried, his voice openly amused._

_A light tinge of delicate colour crept over her cheeks, but in truth she couldn't decide whether it was anger or embarrassment, and with supreme effort she summoned forth a small smile. "Did you know that 'Kaoru' is usually the name given to unidentified female corpses by detectives during investigations? Some really cool people from the precinct downtown came to talk forensics during career week."_

_A faint frown creased his forehead. "And that makes you happy? That thing about your name, I mean?"_

"_I guess," Tenten said faintly, trying to hide her dismay. A deep wrenching sadness clutched her heart. Of course it didn't make her happy. "I never knew my parents. I know nothing of my origin so—" She turned her head away and stared blindly outside the window. "—I guess the name is suiting. It's basically the only thing in my life that has some semblance of meaning."_

_There was a long silence. It was thick with unspoken things. Memories flowed and ebbed through it. Painful ones. For the both of them. _

_Eventually Mr. Hatake broke it._

"_Kaoru," he paused to clear his throat. "A name is just a name. It does not define you in anyway." His voice had come out very gravelly but then he smirked. "Think about Hatake—__**my family name. **__It means 'farmland' which would imply that I'm __**big on fruits and vegetables**__."_

"_I see…yet you eat so many sweets," she scolded heatedly, and was further incensed when he laughed. "You really should lay off the dangos, sensei. You're getting a little round in the middle."_

_His gaze drop to his midsection, "Here I thought you were expressing concern for my blood sugar levels. It turns out you're only calling me fat."_

"_Say, what's your name?" Tenten hazarded with a grin._

_He considered the query carefully. "We maybe friends Kaoru, but you are my student first," he said slowly. "And I don't keep students on a first name basis."_

_She shot him a wry grimace. "You're a terrible role model, you know that right? We can drink together because we're friends but I can't know your first name because I'm your student?" Tenten shook her head. "Your logic never ceases to amuse me—"_

OoOoOo

"—Tou-san." Tenten's chest felt very heavy. Her heart seemed to be pumping to a slow dull thud. A death knell, she thought.

There was no doubt about it. He echoed Rin's words too accurately for it to be coincidental.

"Oh my god. Tou-san. Father. Dad." The pain in her voice was diluted by a heavy sigh.

Her father had always been right there. Before her very eyes. And she never knew it. Neither had he. Her slender fingers tightened around the glass some more—until her knuckles grew white. She could bet her life on it that Obito had known all along. No doubt he took sadistic pride in dangling them both before each other like baits to blind fishes.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Hidan asked with an edge of doubt.

Wetness clung to her lashes and the damp trails on her cheeks were clear evidence of her distress. She wasn't aware that she'd shed actual tears.

"I gotta buzz soon. Konan has been calling," he muttered something profane beneath his breath that sounded like, "My guess is that Itachi's dick isn't in need of consoling so she wants to go home. I told her to take her own fucking car."

Tenten looked up at him with bleak empty eyes, uncaring of her appearance. Then her eyelashes dropped over her eyes, veiling them. She took another large gulp of her drink, swallowing her bitterness along with it.

Konan could have Itachi.

This was not the time to cry over something that was never meant to go anywhere. A child was the only thing that was supposed to come out of their arrangement. So, she could do without feelings because the **absence of love did not prevent procreation.**

Nostalgia hit again and this time darkness sank down over her where for an instant she had seen a wild, hopeful chink of light. Memory stirred again. Where had she heard that before?

_There was something about walking along a beach that soothed the most despondent spirits. The wash of water upon sand held a timeless constancy that dwarfed everything else. Tenten could almost forget the punishment that awaited her for dodging school on her birthday again._

"_Happy sixteenth, Kaoru," her companion smiled at her—a pure blissful smile that poured into her, right down to her toes._

"_Condolences, sensei," she said softly. Her eyes searched his with anxiety._

_He shook his head, a deeply pained and exasperated look on his face. "You make that face every year. I'm fine." He lowered himself unto the sand and patted the spot beside him. "I've now got something to celebrate on this day and it beats sulking over something that's never coming back."_

_She didn't care that the ground was damp from the night's rain. She sat right down next to Mr. Hatake and let it soak right through her uniform skirt. As time elapsed endlessly, they sat there amongst the saline ocean shore retrospectively reflecting on the significance of the date—ninth of March. _

_Emotion clashed within her. It, she knew, was a strong, bright glow—a shining sense of admiration for what Mr. Hatake had to suffer through but managed to survive. It gave her hope that one day she'd be able overcome her own loss and the escape Obito._

_The water was freezing cold as it crashed violently against the rough, golden sand, obliterating all to be seen. The amber lukewarm sun glistened elegantly on the blue horizon as clouds cascaded to and fro. They left the bar at noon because Mr. Hatake wanted to get Tenten back on the school compound before the final bell. He was not ignorant of how strict her guardian was._

_Even now there were bruises on her arms—from tumbling down the stairs, she claimed—but the expression of peace on her adorable, vivid face made nonsense of any injuries._

_Tenten closed her eyes to the lullaby of the ocean, the salty taste of the air on her tongue and the scent of the sea in her nostrils. "Sometimes I dream about my mother—" she sighed. "—at least I think she's my mother. I'm not sure I have any actual memories of her."_

"_It's normal to." His smile had a crooked tilt, "I, too wonder. I imagine that if I had a daughter she might've look a little like you. If she took after her mother, that is."_

_A wave of deep sadness swept through her as she remembered something, "You said I reminded you of someone. Was it her? Your girlfriend?"_

"_She wasn't my girlfriend," He closed his eyes, then opened them again. "But yes you do. Even in the way you seem to have a habit of stalking me," he heaved a shuddering sigh and looked a little embarrassed. _

"_What ever happened to her?" His look of surprise evoked a self-conscious flush. Tenten waved her hand in front of her in a gesture of negation. "You don't have to answer that."_

_His eyebrows momentarily drew together. They smoothed as he delivered calmly, "She died."_

"_You don't seem very torn up about it," she noted, burning with curiosity. He showed more emotion for a child who never lived than he did for the woman he had that child with. "That was out of line. I'm sorry," she broke in._

_He looked at her weighingly. "Don't be." _

"_Didn't you love her at one point?" The words steamed out._

_He grimaced and rolled his head as though she had come up with the ultimate absurdity._

"_You had a baby together," she insisted with stubborn determination not to be put off._

_Mr. Hatake heaved an impatient sigh. He held her gaze with intimidating steadiness as he spoke, measuring his words slowly to make sure they sank in. "__**If the absence of love prevented procreation, **__then half the children alive today would not have been,"__ No hesitation. No flicker of guilt._

Tenten's hand was trembling as she set her glass on the table. She withdrew it to her lap and sat with both hands clenched there, struggling to contain the turbulence tearing through her, the hurt, the fear, the dreadful uncertainties, the sickening sense of emptiness.

History never stopped repeating itself, did it? Her heart took an agitated leap and catapulted around her chest. Was she doomed to suffer the same fate her mother had?

Kakashi never loved Rin. He said so himself. (The punch-line had been delivered with devastating directness but a simple 'no' would've sufficed.)

And Itachi didn't give a flying fuck about her.

Yet the former had a child together and the latter might very well be expecting. The thought blew her mind into frantic activity. She really shouldn't be drinking this much. It wasn't safe.

Tenten paused, her forehead puckered irito a frown. Why should she care? The alcohol wouldn't do anything to the baby (should there be one) that Itachi himself hadn't instructed her to do to it.

"_I trust you'll do as I've done with our contract and terminate it."_

Pain clenched deep inside, a tangible entity that momentarily clouded her eyes. Tenten couldn't bear the thought of extinguishing something that was a part of her, _him_.

Something that was a vivid reminder of what they'd shared.

The memory of the hurt and the frantic futility she felt in that moment shadowed her eyes. Every word he had spoken was carved into her memory. They still felt like concrete drying in her chest—drying and crumbling like her broken heart.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and wiped an unsteady hand across her brow.

"I think you've had way too fucking much to drink," Hidan declared heavily as if he'd read her mind.

Tenten's mind raced on. Was it possible that Rin hid her away from Kakashi because she feared he might come to resent their baby in the same way he obviously resented what had happened between them? But Mr. Hatake didn't seem like the type of person to hold a grudge against an unsuspecting infant. If he was, then why did he bother to acknowledge the day that very child came to be and supposedly ceased to?

She had so many questions. The answers to which she knew were most likely buried with her mother; but if not Kakashi, then maybe Obito could put things into perspective for her.

Even though a lot of things were beginning to make sense, things that had made sense before, weren't making any now.

OoOoOo

_The small, wet pebbles that lined the beach sparkled in the harsh light of the midday sun. The water was almost still, small waves occasionally hitting the beach with little force. Mr. Hatake reached down to pick one up, running his thumb over its smooth surface. He swung his arm back and flicked his wrist, watching the small pebble skip across the surface of the sea._

"_But she loved you, right?" Tenten asked, breaking the silence which had become very prickly. "Why wouldn't she love you?"_

_Her only answer was a soft chuckle which gave her an uncomfortable, small feeling._

_She mimicked his actions and picked up a pebble. It was perfectly round, with no sharp edges or jagged curves. "I didn't mean that as a compliment to you," she pouted, tossing the pebble aside. _

_He gave another short, mocking laugh._

_Tenten shot him a look of incredulity before anger wiped it out. "In all honesty, I think you're an asshole. You never loved that girl—" she shook her head in hurt bewilderment, unsure where all this emotion was coming from. She didn't know the damn woman but all her heartburn over Mr. Hatake's loss and private suffering was bitter ashes in her mouth. "—you led her on, didn't you? Then she had your child and lost it. Fuck, you should be celebrating, sensei." Her eyes blasted him with the depth of her spontaneous contempt. "You dodged a huge bullet."_

_There was only the minutest change in his expression but the savage glitter of mockery was gone from his eyes. "I didn't know that you held me in such high regard, Kaoru," he retorted with bite, then relaxed into a silkier tone. "You're too young to understand."_

"_I understand what it's like to be unloved!" Tears blurred her eyes and she hastily looked down, hoping he had not seen them. That time of the month must be nearing, she thought. Emotional tantrums weren't very characteristic of her. "I can relate well."_

_His mouth tightened into a grim line. "Only someone all the way inside a heart can cause pain as deep as this, Kaoru. You can't relate to __**having someone love you, need you and destroy all at the same time**__."_

What had he meant by that?

She could relate to loving someone, needing someone and having them destroy her all at the same time. Wasn't that what Itachi had done to her? Anger rolled over the hurt. Her hands curled into fists, fingernails digging hard into her palms. She had adored Mr. Hatake so much—loved her father so much—that she went out and found a bastard just like him.

They were nothing alike, a voice inside her head reminded her.

Kakashi had wanted his child, Itachi didn't.

Tenten trembled with the force of her outrage. She wanted to kill Itachi. Love—hatred—inseparable and consuming everything. Maybe she should do what her mother had done and fuck him over by never letting him meet his child (should there be one.) Watching him suffer in the same way Kakashi had, would be retribution enough.

Hidan made a sound that was part sigh, part groan and then yelled in distaste over the music. "I know this place is a fucking dump. I'm not expecting five star treatment, but can I at least get some fucking service over here?"

"Hatake Kakashi and Nohara Rin are my parents." No lead up, just the basic fact. Yet the very starkness of her announcement caused acute anxiety as to Hidan's reaction, for Tenten had expected him to look surprised.

There was a tremendous sense of vulnerability along with the anxiety. She knew neither Itachi nor his friends were very fond of Rin's character. To confirm that she was in fact the child of the woman who drove Obito mad (to the point of slaughtering his family in her name) was to lay Tenten's very existence bare, and open to criticism.

It was another reason for Itachi to be wary of her, to be honest. Here enters another Nohara woman in the life of an Uchiha—to ruin it. Or was it the other way around? Wasn't it the Uchiha who had ruined the Nohara? It certainly seemed that way when she reflected on her encounters with both Itachi and Obito.

"Kakashi and Rin's daughter huh?" Something a lot like confirmed suspicion and anger meshed with a fighting spirit second to none. The pulse in his throat was throbbing. The muscles in his forearms were taut and threatening. "That fucking bitch," Hidan said, almost spitting the words out.

The magenta irises were blazing, more vivid than ever. They had an electric quality, and were stabbing at some mental image he'd conjured up with intense bitterness.

Tenten's mind was totally blank. What has Rin ever done to him, for her name to evoke such a response?

His gaze flickered to the muck on their table. It wasn't theirs. It was left there from the previous customers. She removed her elbows and sat a little straighter. From the corner of her eye she caught a woman staring at them, her black hair falling out of her high ponytail.

In her hand she carried a small writing pad and a biro, around her waist was a stained apron.

Hidan mouthed something to her and she approached their table. Aromatic tea steamed from a cup, and there was a selection of cookies set out on a plate, on the tray she carried.

"Kaoru?" the woman enquired.

Tenten looked up surprised. Her face slowly turned ashen. "Anko? You still work here?"

Anko's mouth twisted into a rueful smile. "Where else would I be working? I haven't seen you in a while. Hatake was here earlier—as is expected." She paused fractionally, then added quietly, "But I see you've found a replacement." She slanted Hidan a musing glance. "Silver is still your favourite, even when it comes to men."

She flushed, feeling quite sick inside. If only Anko knew the truth. Tenten shook her head. "It's nothing like that. It's—"

"—none of your fucking business," Hidan lashed out coldly. A slash of red jagged across his cheekbones. "You've served your purpose now be gone."

"Excuse me?" Anko propped her hands on her hips. Cat's claws drawn and ready, Tenten perceived, and faced the challenge with admirable panache.

She was always a little spitfire...and a little flirt when it came to Mr. Hatake. It was honestly entertaining how she could rile him up and make him blush.

One silver eyebrow lifted with distinct disdain. "You were fucking excused the minute you put that damn tray down."

"If it wasn't for Kaoru, I'd rip off that mouth of yours and make a centre-piece out of it." There was an ominous threat underlying her soft words. Then she turned on her heels and left to go tend to a scruffy looking man in the corner wearing a black claok. "I'll talk to you when you put your little friend away, Kaoru. He seems to be suffering from some rare type of conjunctivitis."

"My eyes are naturally pink—" Hidan seethed. "—and conjunctivitis doesn't fucking affect the iris, you dumb fucking cunt."

A bubble of laughter rose in Tenten's throat. "Seriously?"

"What?" The red on his cheekbones was hotter. "You may be Itachi's cup of tea, but I don't fuck children." His hand made crumbs out of a cookie in his anger. "Who the fuck does she think she is? Making assumptions about me like that? And who the fuck is Kaoru?"

Her stomach executed a somersault, then went into free fall. She might as well tell him the whole truth. It wouldn't hurt her in anyway; Itachi had already used and refused her. She was stupid, Tenten thought. A stupid masochist for inviting more pain on top of the pain she already had. Stress spread through her mind like ink on paper.

She took in deep, ragged breath before placing her hand, enclosed together, onto the table, once more. She heaved a sigh. There was so much she needed to get off her chest. "Kaoru is me. I am Kaoru." Her voice sounded disembodied, even to her.

"What?" His voice was almost strangled with incredulity.

"You're more shocked by that—?" Tenten's eyes narrowed with curiosity and a degree of mild reproof. "—than my being Kakashi and Rin's child?"

"You say that as if you never knew."

"I didn't," she reassured at once, her own shock a visible entity. "I was only just able to connect the dots. This bar brought back a lot of memories and unlocked a few that I didn't know I had. It's kind of strange," she admitted. Then slowly her expression changed, darkening with doubts. "I don't know if my desperation for a sense of belonging is tricking me into seeing things." Tears of confusion swam into her eyes. "Maybe somewhere deep down I've always seen Kakashi as a father figure. And since everyone kept telling me I looked like Rin, my subconsciousness…"

The genuine concern evident in his expression almost made the tears fall, and she shook her head in self-chastisement of the emotional roller coaster she'd been riding since Itachi threw her out. One minute she was telling herself that she'd be fine—that she had had to endure far worst. The next she was panicking over the possibility of becoming a mother to Itachi's unwanted spawn. And another, she was suddenly the deceased child of her high school guidance counselor and the woman her abuser obsessed over.

"We've all had our suspicion but that fucking bitch—" he rasped again.

Tenten blinked. "Rin?"

"Konan," Hidan's expression sharpened. "—she had us all convinced that you were Obito's daughter."

"Obito?" her voice was reduced to a stunned whisper. "How did she manage to do that? I'm an orphan as far as Itachi knows."

"He had us do additional background checks on you." He saw shock hit her face, dilate her eyes and leaned forward to cover her hand with his own. "We couldn't find you in any of Konoha's database but we came across your birth records in Suna and it listed Obito as your father."

Brown eyes stabbed frustration at him. All else fell on deaf ears except, "Additional background checks?" It was like a volcano erupting inside her. "Am I a fucking criminal?" Her eyes were fire and ice. "Itachi had you investigating me?"

Couldn't he have trusted her even a little bit? Surely he must've known that desperation was her only reason for having taken up his offer? What motives could she have had to mindlessly cheapen herself for him like that?

He had Konan to talk to, Konan to share his mind with; Konan—his closest female friend who was so indispensable to him. He hadn't needed a mind in her, Tenten was well aware of that. Only a womb to bring forth his heir and a body to make love with. _Make love_, she thought derisively. What butchery of the English language! Sex, she reminded herself savagely. A body to have sex with.

"That's unimportant," Hidan replied dismissively.

She saw a flicker of guilt cross his face.

Then he looked directly at her, his eyes even more vivid with burning determination. "We also found a death certificate with your name on it—Hatake Tenten, so who the fuck is Kaoru?"

Her gaze widened, belated understanding dawning on her. The wheels were turning. "If Obito's my father then that would make Itachi my—" The thought added another depth of sickness to her despair. "—that can't be, right? I knew Mr. Hatake, personally. He told me that in college he got a girl pregnant and she lost the baby. That explains my having a death certificate, right?" She looked at him despairingly. "And I have a vague memory of having met Rin when I was younger. There was a car crash, I believe. I'm not sure." Beads of perspiration were breaking out on her forehead, "Itachi and I can't be related, can we? Obito can't be my father."

That was absolutely disgusting. No wonder Itachi had looked so repulsed.

He gave her a long searching look, "Didn't that woman say something about Hatake being here earlier?"

An absentminded sip from her glass made Tenten scrunch up her face, "He comes here every year on my birthday." Then with pointed emphasis she added, "To mourn the loss of his child. Coincidence?"

"I don't fucking think so," Hidan said, handing her his cell phone. "Those pictures were taken by a street camera eighteen years ago. I believe you were three years old."

Her hands trembled as she took the device. Despite the graininess and the lack of colour in the pictures, Tenten could clearly make out the woman. It was Rin. In one frame she was kneeling down before a smaller body and putting something around its neck. In another picture, her head lowered to press itself against the child's forehead, an expression of laughing devotion evident in her delicate features.

"That's me?" she whispered hoarsely, aware of the sharp pain in her chest at the sight of her and her mother—together. It hurt so much she could hardly bear to keep looking, yet she couldn't tear her eyes away.

_The noisy clacking of the trams as they sped along their steel tracks and the constant sound of traffic rang in their ears. Downtown Suna was as busy as ever._

"_Close your eyes, sweetie."_

"_No." Tenten drew back, frowning, her little eyes—dubious and searching. "You'll run away and leave me again," she lifted her hands in wordless appeal._

_Rin's dark brown eyes crinkled with good humour and her thick thatch of straight brown hair flopped onto her forehead._

_Tenten brushed it back for her, "Are you going to ditch me again?"_

"_Why would I ditch my little girl?" _

_Her grin was infectious but Tenten was immune. She pouted, "Why wouldn't you? Everybody does it."_

"_I promise that I won't. Go on, close them," she repeated, brushing her forehead with her lips. "I have a gift for you."_

_Her chubby face lit, glowing with excitement. "A present for me? I've never gotten a present before." _

"_This gift is very special. You want to know why?"_

_There was the slightest hesitation in her voice when she asked, "Was it something that you stole? I don't want it." There was a flash of bleak emptiness in her little expressive brown eyes. "Auntie did that before in a store and everyone was calling me a thief. No one believed that she gave it to me to hold, saying it was my special present."_

_Rin's mouth was agape, her eyes widely staring after the child. "I'm sorry she did that to you. I promise, my little brownie, this gift isn't stolen. It's my second most prized possession," she proclaimed and kissed Tenten cheek in a flood of deep affection. _

_Only then did Tenten let her eyes close. Her heart-rate was still subsiding, her limbs still exhausted from their run._

_She felt the weight of Rin's hand on her shoulders, then a click, and then something cold was slithering over her skin. Her eyes flew open and she gave a little cry._

"_This is so pretty," she breathed, eyes wide._

"_Someone very dear to both of us gave it to me." She draped the necklace around Tenten's throat. "I never let it out of my sight," she murmured. "But I'm giving it to you as a promise that I'll never let you out of my sight—" She dropped another kiss on Tenten's forehead and then pressed her own forehead against it to gaze into those big, innocent eyes. "—never," she swore softly._

"_Who gave it to you?" Tenten smiled appreciatively at her, fingering the silver pendant. It was heart-shaped, the heart cast in two halves. "Is one half for me and the other for you?"_

_Rin shook her head. "No brownie. Both halves are for you because all of my heart belongs to you." She wrapped her arms around the small girl, holding her close. "That's what he told me."_

_Tenten mused over those words. A deep contentment filled her. "Who?"_

_She was silent a moment. "__**Someone I loved and needed**__—"__Then, softly, Rin stroked her hair. "—__**but destroyed**__."_

OoOoOo

As those words replayed itself in her memory, Tenten's eyes stared unseeingly at the photograph.

There had been no mistaking the toddler. Not with that silver necklace around her neck. She remembered treasuring that piece of jewelry more than anything else in the world.

It was no longer in her possession, though. Tenten had buried it in the old shop she occupied as a child. The necklace caught the eyes of a gang of older kids, and at the time she didn't know how else to safeguard it. She hadn't wanted to risk getting cornered and having it taken away from her, so she dug a hole in the shed, buried it and told them someone else had already stolen it.

Subconsciously Tenten reached up and felt around her bare neck, "I wonder if it's still there."

Hidan's smirk was a trifle rueful. "Guess what Girl Scout?"

"What?" she queried, a little slow on the uptake.

"On the day that photo was taken Rin met in a car accident." There was a slight quiver in his voice. "I don't think your mind's playing tricks on you. There was in fact a car crash."

Tenten swallowed and stared at the picture. "Kaa-san? Is that really you?" She asked, in a strange floating voice.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, but her chest was tight with an agony that no tears could expel. She couldn't bear it—couldn't bear the loss, the loneliness, the emptiness, the pain. A part of her wished this were a dream she'd wake up from. Not ever knowing where she came from but believing her parents were alive, somewhere, had always brought her comfort. There was no comfort to gain from all this knowledge.

"Everything adds up to a point but—"

"But?" she sniffed.

"—it doesn't fucking explain why you have that sociopath's signature mark on you," he accused, his eyes hardening.

"You know about that?" she asked, not showing the slightest trace of surprise at what should've been news to her.

Tenten reasoned that If Itachi had his colleagues digging up dirt on her then he must've told them intimate little details that would've aided them in their investigation. That mark, for starters, was a massive clue.

She swallowed hard, there was nothing to lose. "When I was eight I met a little boy who promised me—"

"Sasuke," Hidan fielded in.

"—that his brother would come and take me off the streets one day," Tenten rolled her eyes.

She had been naïve and an absolute fool to imagine for one moment that Obito could've been Sasuke's heroic brother. As the plaintive realization revolved in her mind, a harsh cynical laugh broke from her throat.

"A few years later I met Obito and he pretended to be Itachi. I immediately bought into it. He saved me from being sexually assaulted and shared likeness to Sasuke so I—"

Hidan rubbed her thumb over her wrist and gave a low, amused laugh which for some reason annoyed her. "This shit is rich. I've heard rumors about fuckface having split personalities but I never knew that Itachi was one of them."

"You know about that too?" Her mouth fell open in shock. "About Obito and Tobi?"

He shrugged his broad shoulders and continued to look at her, though this time with speculation. "Obito and Tobi are real?"

She nodded grimly. All the blood drained from her face. "They're like separate entities residing in one body. I've seen it for myself. I've lived through it. Obito is a raging nutcase but Tobi is sweet and sincere. He rarely comes out though. Obito suppresses him."

The conditon was known as Dissociative Identity Disorder. It is often referred to as Multiple Personality Disorder—a condition wherein a person's identity is fragmented into two or more distinct personalities. It's usually present in victims of abuse, which made Tenten wonder how and why Obito developed the illness rather than her. An actual abuse victim.

Hidan gestured for another shot of whatever he was drinking. "Are you fucking shitting with me right now, Girl Scout?"

She shook her head furiously, willing him to believe her. "He was mental."

"That's not too hard to believe. The little fucker was hooked on all sorts of drugs. Do you think he knew you were Kakashi's child?"

"Absolutely. Why else would he change my name for schooling? Rin implied that my father gave me my name. So if Mr. Hatake really was my father he would've figured something. Tenten is not a common name. It would be even more suspicious if I went by Uchiha Tenten—like you said my birth records state."

Hidan sighed, "Couldn't you have fucking realized all this shit earlier? It would've saved me a-fucking-lot of gas. Itachi threw you out because fucking _the help_ may have its kink, but fucking _the help_ who was, in actuality, a blood relative is disgusting."

"Why didn't he just tell me?" she demanded aghast. "I would've been able to set his mind at ease."

The cell phone sounded.

His hand froze halfway towards it lying on the table and then, with a soft, oddly chilling laugh, he grabbed it up then tossed it back down.

It must've been Konan, Tenten thought. He has been avoiding her calls all evening.

"And how the fuck would you have done that, Girl Scout?" he gritted in a tone of explosive incredulity. "You would've believed the same fucking shit like all of us had. Five minutes ago you didn't fucking who your daddy was."

Tenten was as taken aback by his temper as by his sudden rudeness. "Still," she fumed. "He could've told me the reason I was kicked out."

"You and I both know you couldn't have handled that. Itachi didn't want to fucking traumatize you any further. Having to sleep with him was probably traumatic enough," he joked.

Pale and fighting a craven desire to cringe at the reminder, Tenten flung her head high. **That** was the very worst mistake she had made in her twenty-two years of life. Her tummy felt hollow, her every tiny muscle bracing in self-defence. But her brain just refused to snap back into action. She could only wonder in amazement why on earth Itachi cared about her trauma.

"I don't believe that," she whispered, and then said with greater force. "He could've done it a bit more respectable."

Tilting his arrogant head back, Hidan treated her to a leisurely, all-male appraisal that was as bold as he was. "Take this from someone who has fucked a lot of hired women—there's no respectable way to kick them out."

She was as stung by that insolent remark as if he had slapped her in the face. "You can leave now. I'll take it from here." She folded her arms with a jerk, holding her treacherous body rigid as if by so doing she might drive out that mortifying remark. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell Itachi the truth. He should suffer in his ignorance."

"You don't mean that," he murmured in a tone as smooth as black velvet. "Your anger is justified—but so was Itachi's."

Tenten could not credit his nerve. Her temper was rising, "Justified? That monster told me to kill our fucking baby if I got pregnant. Nothing justifies that. Not even our circumstances." Bitterness surged up inside her, the destructive bitterness she would never be able to put behind her. She raised her hand at Hidan, with knotted fist. "I may not wish him bodily harm but he deserves to suffer mental hell. I hate that bastard."

"I said his anger was justified, not his actions," Hidan said drily, watching her face warm with angry colour. "Of course I'm not shocked by them. He is after all Itachi-hardass-fucking-Uchiha but you—" he took a brief pause for thought. "—this kills you. Not because it was cold but because of your emotional involvement."

"I am not emotionally involved," she asserted between gritted teeth, determined to disabuse Itachi of any such ego boosting notion.

"You're a fucking warrior, Tenten, but even the men of war take of their armour once in a while."

With that unapologetic assessment, he studied her with cloaked eyes, his hard bone-structure smug. And yet, somehow self-effacing. "Only someone you care about can truly kill you. It takes an inside job to attack one so resilient to emotional injury. That is your heartbreak, to know that Itachi is the tool of your greatest pain."

That stabbed her like a knife in the heart.

"That fucking psychopath physically abused you, didn't he?

"Where are you going with this?" She asked uncomfortably. Obito might have beaten the shit out of her but he never touched her inappropriately.

"You managed to bounce right back," Hidan got to his feet and stretched a hand out towards her. "So why should Itachi be able to do far worse with just a few small words? He didn't mean them, you know it but in a way that makes it worse. Doesn't it?"

"What are you doing?" Her uncertain gaze collided with shimmering pink eyes as she clasped his hand. And he didn't let go again. He kept on holding her hand, a faint frown-line etched between his brows as they exited the bar. "Where are you taking me?"

"I'm fucking returning you to Itachi."

"What? No. Fuck Itachi!" Tenten tugged her fingers violently free and whirled back. "I'm not fucking going anywhere. I have to confront Mr. Hatake and learn more about my mother. There's finally hope for me to know who I am and I'm not going to put it off for that bastard."

Hidan held fast to her. "He deserves to know the truth."

She lifted angry hands and tried to break his hold. "He deserves to rot in hell."

"Maybe he can help."

"Help me do what? Feel even worse about myself?" Tears that were as much the result of distress as fury lashed her eyes. "If Konan has a conscience she'll eventually cave and tell him the truth. I wash my hands clean of Itachi. And if there's a child—"

Hidan's hand tightened around her wrist as they made their way to the old parking lot. "What will you do huh? Itachi will fucking hunt you down and you'll have not one, but two crazy fucking Uchihas coming after you," he pointed out with immense and galling cool.

The silence hung there like a giant sheet of glass waiting to crash and smash when the seething tension broke. She stared back fixedly at him. A shaken and hollow laugh was wrenched from her convulsed throat. "I'll wash myself clean of that child as well," Tenten staggered, the alcohol setting in.

A tiny muscle pulled tight at the comer of his mouth and he did not pretend not to follow her meaning. "You wouldn't fucking dare," he pulled open his car door and dumped her in the passenger's seat. "This is what's going to happen—" Hidan declared as he slid behind the steering and drove off.

She didn't try to escape because she was dizzy. The smell of the nearby fish market drifted into car and curdled her tummy. Her head was swimming.

"—you're going to get your fifteen minutes with Kakashi but after that your pretty little ass is going back to Amegakure." He swung the wheel as the car took a curve, then eased it to a halt before a set of old traffic lights. "Until your pregnancy is confirmed or disproved, you're not going anywhere."

"Itachi and I no longer have a contract," she squeezed out the reminder with burning bitterness.

"That is irrelevant," he incised flatly. "Now, where the fuck can I find old man Kakashi?"

"Why are you helping me?" With a sigh she relaxed into the soft leather. Hunger was making her dizzy. Common sense had told her that she should've eaten something before drinking all that liquor. "Don't you know it's dangerous? Obito is looking for me."

"Then why the fuck would you want to stay here?"

"Where else would I go?" Nausea cramped her stomach and she shot upright, once more. Tenten clamped a hand across her mouth like a gag, not trusting herself to say another word without spilling the contents of her stomach out.

"Not a-fucking-gain," Hidan imparted with savage condemnation, killing the engine. Then he bolted out the door and headed for Tenten's side of the vehicle. "When you don't hold your fucking liquor well, why the fuck do you drink?" he complained, helping her to her feet.

She barely made it across the abandoned road that Hidan carelessly parked, before she became violently sick.

"Is every-fucking-where in this place a fucking dump?" he asked aloud, looking around. "Is this shit supposed to be a market? I wouldn't buy shit from this fucking place."

Tenten made choking noises in response.

A gust of dry wind swept through the maze of old shops where windows have long shattered in the weakness of their structures and rotting boards, some broken, others hanging as if to cover the empty eyes of every vacant shop. Most of which lost more paint that they have kept on. Earlier the place was buzzing with activity, Hidan reflected, tilting his head. Moonlight glittered on the empty and desolate streets behind him—the only reliable source of light. Diamonds of lead panes trickled the sallow light of street-lamps but they flickered constantly.

_Street_ was probably too generous a word to describe the dirt road, that Hidan imagined, turned to a river of mud during the rainy season.

Five minutes passed, then another five. He was certain that Tenten would be puking out her intestines if she kept this up. "Remind me to never take you out drinking again," he decided to taunt her but then he heard footsteps behind him.

He swung around just in time to see the same scruffy-looking cloaked man from the bar. He disappeared inside one of the old shops. The door closed quickly, ominously behind him.

As Hidan stood, gazing at the dilapidated structure he shivered, as though, ice had replaced his spine. Something did not sit well with him. He pulled his weapon easily from its holster, checking the clip quickly as he moved towards the shop.

"What is it?" Tenten gave a horrified squeak when she looked back at Hidan—a silver pistol in hand. Her heart beat raced at an insane rate. "Have you been walking around with that all day?"

He held a finger to his lips to silence her and indicated that she was to follow close behind. "I think we're being followed," he mouthed to her.

She swallowed, on the edge of panic. "What?"

His movement fluid, ready for whatever threat he would come across, he began to stalk towards the shop. "Do you remember that cloaked guy in the corner of the bar that your friend went to serve?"

"Yes."

"I just saw him go inside." Hidan's hand tightened around the trigger. "Stay behind me and keep quiet."

Tenten froze for a long second, gazing at the old shop. A few years ago she had called it home but now the moonlight casted a ghoulish glow on it and it looked like a horror house. Vines formed a twisted maze upon the side of it, reaching their tentacles towards the roof. Splotches of original paint hinted at the shop's former prosperity—ancients ago. Cobwebs covered the corners of the battered door, tiny black spiders threading towards their prey. It looked fit for the kings and queens of the supernatural.

She grabbed Hidan's hand, fear slamming in her heart. "Don't go in there."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he breathed out harshly.

"Listen. What if it's Obito?" Her limbs were weakening in fear but she held a firm grip on Hidan. "He knows that Kakashi and I meet up at that bar almost every year. What if he had turned up in hopes of catching me there?"

"It makes no fucking sense that he would trail us here instead of confronting us at the bar." He muttered with a grimace. "Think about it, we didn't have to stop here. We just so happened to."

Tenten fought to control the sense of horror as she corrected him, "That's where you're wrong. That shed is where I grew up. I would've eventually come back. This is where I've kept Rin's necklace—it's the only thing I have of my mother's. He knows about this place."

He only grunted.

Her stomach roiled. "Please, let's hurry and get out of here."

"Rin's necklace is fucking proof of your parentage," he said roughly. "Do you think Kakashi is just going to believe you like that?"

"What about a DNA test and all those records you found?" she argued in a whisper.

Hidan wasn't having any of it. In a matter of prolonged seconds the door was begrudgingly creaking open. A musty, dank smell crept into their nostrils. The shop was dead silence except for the intermittent creaks and moans. Black and brown mold dotted the ceiling in clusters, evident of rain seeping through the roof.

Tenten tiptoed behind Hidan, trying to remember where exactly she had hidden the necklace. Maybe they could snatch it up before anything transpired.

The calm moonlight struggled to penetrate the darkness in thin thread rays. Sharp shadows roamed around the room. She could make out the silhouette someone huddled on the floor in the middle of the room.

She froze but Hidan edged closer for a better look. One hand aimed his gun at the figure, the other fished blindly in his pockets for something. "Why are you shadowing us?" he demanded fearlessly.

The body did not so much as jerk or show any kind of reaction. After a minute though, there was sobbing. Like a child caught at some indiscretion that he knew would bring punishment.

"The bastard isn't even repentant, just terrified now," Hidan laughed.

Tenten swallowed. Her chest tightened with fear. During transition between entities, Obito was usually quiet and static. It was as terrifying as it was fascinating—to watch him switch from Tobi to Obito and back. Whenever he was reverting to Tobi he would sob and harm himself for Obito's transgressions. It was absolutely mental. She only hoped that luck was on their side and it was just some random street person.

"Hey! I'm fucking talking to you," Hidan yelled the word with a dangerous, predatory growl as he hunched down, knees bending to stare into the pale face. "What have we got here? Where the fuck is my phone, Girl Scout? I need some light over here?"

She shook her head as she fought to breathe through the pounding of her heart. "You must've left it at the bar because I don't have—"

"What the fuck?" Hidan gave out in horror. A low, bleak and horrible sound.

Tenten froze in her tracks when she saw him rise to his feet and turned towards her. She had expected him to fall back unto his knees or double over in pain—from an impalement of some sort—but he just stood there.

"What is it?" she asked.

The expectant silence rushed and surged around her. It shimmered around them.

"It's Sasuke," he announced, transfixed with disbelief.

Tenten stared at him through the darkness in astonishment. Wasn't Sasuke supposed to be dead—as well?

OoOoOo

_**Elsewhere in Konoha**_

Uchiha Obitopulled a plain white van into the back of a motel and lugged his still unconscious burden into the motel room. With quick movements he tied the man up though to be honest he didn't look like he was going anywhere soon, but he preferred to err on the side of caution.

He was breathing normally; the bump on his head wasn't overly large. A smear of blood on his forehead where he had been hit had fury rising inside him all over again. That one strike should've killed the damn bastard, he grimaced. Sighing wearily, Obito rose to his feet and removed the gag. His captive looked to be breathing fine, but he didn't want to take any chances. He slid the cloth free before returning to his chair.

At least now he would be able to settle a score before sending the man to the afterlife. Locating him had been rather easy. He was a creature of habit—at least when it came to the ninth day of March. First was the annual stop by that filthy, run-down bar. Second was a walk by the beach until exhaustion kicked in and he retired to his apartment.

Hatake Kakashi was one predictable son-of-a-bitch.

As Obito watched him, a low groan passed over the curves of his lips, and Kakashi's lashes fluttered open weakly.

He moved from the chair, watching his old pal closely as he eased down on the bed beside him and capped his hand over his mouth just in time.

The muffled scream was accompanied by a frantic bucking of his body.

If there was ever such a thing as _shades of black_, they all collided in Kakashi's eyes, tiny pinpoints of different tints that, up close, were almost sympathy-evoking. They were wide with shock and outrage now.

"Calm down old pal, I'm not going to hurt you," Obito drawled.

Yeah, he was going to believe that one, he thought, especially with those ropes holding him down.

Kakashi's muffled growl of outrage against his palm assured him he was right.

"Look Kakashi, if I wanted you dead, you would be dead," he griped. "I just want you to tell me where the fuck you've been keeping Tenten."

He blinked back at him in surprise.

"Don't play dumb with me. One of my sources told me that they saw you leaving _Thousand Years of Pain_ with her," he murmured. "What a suiting name. If you don't fest up, I'll make you live through more than just a thousand years of pain."

Kakshi drew in a deep breath, his nostrils flaring. His words were muffled.

"I've got evidence," Obito breathed out roughly, sitting beside Kakashi as the man stared back at him furiously. "Someone recovered your phone from the scene. It's unusual for you to visit the bar twice. I followed you there earlier but I was told you returned."

He jerked and bucked against his restraints.

"I was going to give you something for that nasty headache I bet you have." He smiled back at his deadly glare. "It hurts pretty bad, huh?"

Kakashi looked away, his nostrils flaring with rage, his face flushed.

"I'm not Rin, so I don't give a fuck if you have a boo-boo." Obito breathed with licking contempt. "Where the fuck is Tenten?"

He watched Kakashi's expression change. Anger receded. It didn't disappear, just receded as shock loosened the muscles in his face. Then he yelped in pain when he felt Kakashi's teeth sink into the flesh of his palm.

"Tenten is alive?" he demanded.

Obito jerked a lethal black weapon from beneath the pillow and raised it, "She goes by the name Kaoru these days."

Kakashi turned pale at that most belated confession. "You mean?"

"Yes—I mean," he remarked with sardonic amusement.

"But how?"

Obito vented a humourless laugh. "Does it matter? She has no idea who you are and—"

_I love bad bitches, that's my fucking problem. And yeah I like to fuck, I got a fucking problem._

An obnoxious tune broke through, interrupting Obito. "—what kind of ringtone is this?" he cringed, a frown marring his brow.

Kakashi's eyes widened innocently. "That's not my phone."

He ground his teeth together furiously, pulling his cell phone from his pocket. "Then whose phone is this? They told me you left this behind." He answered the call, "Hello?"

There was a short silence.

"_Where the hell are you? Itachi needs you to return now, and you had better have Tenten with you."_

Those two names erupted in his subconscious mind like a volcano. "Might I ask who you're looking for?" Not a shade of the outraged incredulity and anger consuming Obito was audible in his deep, dark drawl.

"_How the hell did you come by this number? Where's Hidan?" _

Abruptly, he disconnected the call. He had all his answers. "I'm going to send that fucking boy to join the rest of his family," the low, rumbling sound of his voice shocked him as much as it did Kakashi. "They took Rin away. He's not taking Tenten."

"Where is my daughter?" Kakashi shot back, frustration eating at him.

"Your daughter?" his jaw tightened and the other hand clenching on the gun. "I was the one who found her."

He stared back at Obito in disbelief before he shook his head and suspicion began to fill his eyes as well. "You were also the one who abused her."

"I disciplined her when she fell out of line. That was what Rin would've wanted—a perfect daughter. The perfect Rin." He declared, quickly silencing his weapon. "Unfortunately for you old pal, this is where our conversation ends. You don't have Tenten. My cousin does; which means that you are of no further use to me." Without a second thought Obito discharged the weapon. "Give my regards to Rin."

Kakashi slumped over instantly.

"You're next Itachi." His fists were clenched; violence was ripping him apart inside. "Rin entrusted Tenten to me. No one else."

* * *

**A/N: I've condensed two chapters into one since I didn't update last week and I'm aiming to resume weekly updates. I'm also not very pleased with these chapters so slapping them together and getting rid of them at once worked in my favour. Still no Itachi? Waaah. He returns next chapter ;) If you hate flashbacks as much as I do then I apologize for them. They're a necessary evil, someone once told me. **

**The chapter where Sasuke first met Tenten was titled "A Fated Encounter" which is sort of why this chapter is titled "Another Fated Encounter" I thought it was kind of a giveaway what would happen in this. Was it? Thank you for reading. I'd greatly appreciate any feedback :)**


	28. Déjà vu

**Help Wanted**

**Chapter Twenty-Eight — Déjà vu**

**Dedicated to Annie Mae Quinn**

* * *

"**Past, Present And Future Exist All At Once As Parallel Moments In Time."**

― **Khalid Masood**

The air outside the shed was colder than it had been moments ago—bitter, biting. Icy wind cut through the thin material of Tenten's blouse. She could feel the cold around her. It settled in her bones and she had to force her teeth not to rattle. Wrapping her arms around herself, she attempted to catch her breath and banish the awful nausea threatening.

Shock.

She knew what was wrong with her.

Shock and a kind of horrified disbelief that Sasuke had been alive all this while.

Alive and roaming the crowded, anonymous streets of Konoha where he was just one more homeless, desperate denizen, pushed aside, ignored, resented.

He was balled up before them now, like he was afraid to release his knees, rocking in time to each flash of the indicator on Hidan's car, his eyes fixed on nothing at all. His clothes had enough wear and dirt to look like rags. His skin was hidden behind layers of grime and his hair hung as a tangled mop of black and dust. He looked a little rough too, a blue shadow—that looked to be a bruise—darkening his jawline, harsh lines of strain between his nose and mouth. His feet were bare, his legs marred with ugly cuts and bruises.

Tenten didn't think there was a single part of him that wasn't in agony. Battered and bruised from head to toe. It was like he was breathing without being alive. His face was wet with sweat, his eyes were red, haunted, tormented—like an addict who had gone far too long without a fix.

He was not even able to identify with his own name when called.

It was as if he didn't know himself at all, just like she hadn't known herself back then, albeit in a different sense. Hers had been a case of social identity, his was more psychological.

He had offered very little resistance when Hidan grabbed him by his scruffs and dragged him outside.

Her mind briefly focused on the face before her, then she suddenly shut her eyes tight. She was struggling to overcome the disbelief and simultaneously offering up a prayer of desperate hope to God. Let him be real. Please don't let it be the alcohol fucking with both our heads.

She absently sought Hidan's hand, at her side. A grin tugged on his lips at the contact. "Well this is the third fucking Uchiha you've driven mad. Are you going after some sort of record?"

Tenten insisted in considerable confusion that, "I haven't done anything."

He touched her nose with his index finger. "Then what is Sasuke doing in the same shed he found you in back then?"

That was an interesting question but it didn't warrant pondering on at the moment.

"Coincidence," she suggested and slowly shook her pounding head, lifting her hand to press her fingers against her damp, taut brow as if to aid her thinking powers. "How can you be so certain this is even Sasuke? How could he still be alive after so many years—after suffering such a horrible fate? Didn't the reports say he burnt inside his vehicle?"

"There was never anything concrete to suggest that he perished in the flames," bland faced Hidan continued. "They simply went by that assumption because they didn't dare raise hopes Itachi did not believe he could stand to have resurrected."

Tenten blinked, struggling to focus on Hidan and absorb what she was being told. Her blood was chilling in her veins, her tummy turning queasy. Itachi must've been devastated by everything. Sasuke's photograph was the only one she had ever come across in his house. There was none of his parents, of himself or even friends. That spoke volumes of his importance to Itachi. In sudden, raw, shaken turmoil, Tenten stood there, experiencing simultaneous joy over possibly reuniting Itachi with his brother and battling agony all at the same time.

With Sasuke back, her relevance would be no more. Itachi's almost obsessive need for an heir to continue the Uchiha lineage would probably be no more either. Sasuke was his brother after all, and next of kin. She suspected that all Itachi ever wanted was someone to call family—someone to pass everything onto. In the end he would get what he desired and she would've sold herself and her heart to him in vain.

Starved as she was to be of importance to someone, he had won her ardent devotion with ease. Being grateful to and resenting him had come as naturally as breathing to her. She couldn't even remember when her childish, blind adoration had become something much deeper, something so powerful that it hurt now to imagine Itachi not prioritizing her anymore, even if it had been purely as a biological imperative before.

Her face stiffened. She was being pathetic and selfish.

In the state that Sasuke was in, he would need Itachi's undivided attention now more than ever. How could she be thinking about herself at a time like this? How could any sane woman be jealous under these circumstances? This kind of jealousy was neither amusing nor understandable. It was threatening and dangerous. And hadn't she already made up her mind that she wouldn't forgive Itachi or return to him, even if she fell pregnant? So why must the prospect of her and their baby not being as important to him anymore make her feel this way?

"This doesn't change shit," Hidan told her, accurately interpreting the look on her face. He was unusually perceptive. His voice was sharp, brisk. "Itachi will want to know if you're fucking carrying his child or not, so don't think about running off."

"Itachi?"

They heard the name slip past Sasuke's lips. His voice was a thin thread of barely recognizable sound.

Tenten ignored the tightening of Hidan's hand on hers and moved away, rushing to kneel before the young man.

His face—with his dark, Uchiha eyes, his black hair, his alabaster skin. Only the shape of his face was different from that of his brother's. It was a face that carried the mark of childlike sweetness and an incredible fragility. It made her heart want to break in despair. She could only wonder what he must've gone through all these years. All these years without any sense of who he was.

"Sasuke," her voice shook.

Itachi's eyes looked up at her out of the boy and in them she saw a surge in perplexity. "Who?"

Tenten's breath caught in her throat. She couldn't breathe.

There was just this massive explosion of crazy joy inside her and she didn't notice herself moving forward—hesitantly at first. She was such a bag of nerves, her hands shook as she splayed slender fingers round his cheekbones.

Bright colour scored them at her gentle touch.

The light stubble of his beard tickled her palms. Unexpectedly his hand came over her hers, heavy, yet not hard.

Their gaze held—like hot chocolate pouring into eyes like espresso.

He stared at her, his expression enigmatic. He never blinked, but she saw the misery and grief in the glitter of unshed tears in his eyes.

Suddenly she trembled, cold and clammy with emotions too great for her small body to contain. "Do you know who Itachi is?"

Sasuke stopped rocking, then he nodded, a little of his tension ebbing. "Nii- san."

With shattered eyes, she stared at the youngest Uchiha with ever-mounting incredulity.

It was really him. Sasuke was alive. Tenten was beginning to put faith in what she was seeing albeit every sense screaming at her to be cautious. She didn't know what for though? She was fighting so hard to concentrate but she found that she just couldn't. She felt stupid, numb, disbelieving.

He was supposed to be dead. He has been for many years.

"Will you help me back to nii -san—?"

She nodded and couldn't help an indulgent smile. His guileless enthusiasm charmed the socks off her. She was attempting to fight through the absolute turmoil of her confusion over his behaviour but Sasuke's next words pierced the tumult and froze her.

"—like the last time?" he asked and lifted a hand to the hollow at the base of his throat. His fingers toyed with the silver chain he always wore.

The heart-shaped pendant was cast in two halves. The sort of piece intended to be broken: a half of the heart given to each wearer. Like the one Rin had given her.

The moonlight splashed down its watery white-silver glow onto the smooth surface of the locket, bathing it, illuminating it. And its soft shimmering glow glistened against Sasuke's pale face like a quilt of molten silver.

Memory slipped back to her—their first encounter, many years ago.

OoOoOo

"_That's a pretty necklace," he said next, flicking her a quick, warm smile. "It looks like the one my Aunt Rin used to wear during her teen days. Our photo album is filled—" Sasuke stopped and stared with wide eyed wonder at the sudden revelation._

_Tenten blindly reached for her throat, searching for the pendant. Her palm quickly gripped the heart, the silver warming between her fingers. For as long as she could remember that necklace had always been around her neck._

"_Where did you get that?" he asked stiltedly._

_She lifted her big brown eyes to his face. "I don't know. I've always had it."_

_It was the first time she had actually given him a straight answer, and the tension around his small mouth relaxed._

"_You said you needed my help?" she drew her brows together and fished into her back pocket, producing a comb. Some of the teeth were missing and she struggled to get what remained of them to comb through the knots in her hair. She let out a cry of frustration before asking, "Are you lost?"_

"_Kind of," he admitted hesitantly._

"_Well you've come to the right place," she laughed with curt confidence._

OoOoOo

For a moment Tenten played with the memory, turning it over in her head, trying it on for size. She stared at the silver chain, shimmering against Sasuke's flesh, and realized that the necklace wasn't just like the one Rin had given her.

It was the very one.

"Where did you get that?" Her voice came out high and squawky.

Sasuke looked gormlessly back at her.

The pallor below her naturally golden skin betrayed her state of shock. And when she turned to Hidan, he stared at her with fierce demand in his eyes.

"What the fuck is going on?" His voice told her that he too, was on the edge of extinction by severe shock.

After all Sasuke is believed to be a dead man. His haunting_ (inhibiting)_ of the same shed they met in as a child was tad bit peculiar. And so was his possession of her mother's necklace. An attachment and reluctance to part with worldly things were characteristics of many ghosts in theatre. Hidan has seen this many times over, just never off the big-screen.

"What is he doing with that? And how is he able to recognize you?"

"I don't know how. I've changed a lot since we met." Tenten swallowed the lump in her throat and winced. Her mind was racing a mile a minute and she couldn't keep up with it.

"Apparently not as much as you think."

"I hid the necklace in the shed. He must've found it if he has been staying in there all this time," she shook her head suddenly. "That's not really relevant right now, Hidan. You have to take him back to Itachi."

They needed to focus on the bigger picture here.

"I knew you'd come back," Sasuke's voice was conciliatory, caressing. His eyes washed over Tenten, warm and familiar. "So I waited."

A taut silence stretched.

"What do you mean you waited?" Tenten asked. He looked at her, and she thought confusedly that the moonlight had changed the colour of his eyes to silver. "How long have you been here?"

He mumbled something inaudible and relapsed into silence.

"We have to take him back," Hidan asserted, studying Tenten's frowning face intently. "We."

Numbly she shook her head. "I can't go back. I won't," she managed coolly in a determined bid to exert some measure of control over her emotions.

She felt sick. A biting pain lingered in her stomach and her heart—with it, a tortured vulnerability.

She felt torn in two.

One half of her—what she deemed to be the intelligent and perceptive half—desperately wanted to go and find Kakashi because her gut was telling her she urgently needed to. Something felt wrong. Tenten could make no sense of the impressions of foreboding that ingrained itself onto her sub-consciousness.

But the other half of her was savaged by the sure knowledge that she would never see Itachi again. That half wanted to go back to him. It wanted to return to his arms and tell him everything; about her parents, about Sasuke...about her feelings.

As the tears swam in her eyes she wrinkled her nose to hold them at bay. Since when was she this fucking emotional? Fucking delusional? Fucking mental?

Nothing should ever be able to rewrite the horrid way Itachi treated her. Not even the fact that he had somewhat justifiable reason for his contemptible behaviour. That he is capable of such cold and cruel acts should never be forgotten. It should serve as a reminder that it was always wise to err on the side of caution about who you gave your heart to.

Sometimes, she felt everything at once. Other times, she felt nothing at all. She didn't know what was worse; drowning beneath the waves or dying from the thirst. One minute she loved Itachi, the next she felt she hated him. And when she reminded herself that he was undeserving of her affection and that she had no foundation on which to base her love, hatred rose uppermost.

Both for him and for herself.

Eyes so much like Itachi's clashed with hers yet again, and for an instant she couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't even think straight.

"I won't go if you won't," Sasuke told her without hesitation.

Tenten subsided like a pricked balloon, having not expected that kind of reaction. If she was to be completely honest, she hadn't been expecting any reaction at all, given that before Itachi's name was mentioned Sasuke had only grunts to offer as responses.

A white brow ascended. "And why the fuck not?"

His black eyes were ablaze with suspicion and distrust when they fixated on Hidan. "She's carrying nii-san's baby."

In the throbbing, incredulous silence, a surge of guilty crimson slowly stained Tenten's cheekbones. So Sasuke had in fact been listening in on their exchange earlier?

"I go wherever she goes," his firm mouth set grimly.

He may have forgotten himself but not his honour, apparently. Not his fondness and devotion towards his older brother, she realized.

Hidan swore under his breath and fixed the brunette with a bitingly aggressive stare. "He is a fucking nut job right now and even he understands reason. You have to come back, Tenten."

Her fingers reached out to touch the chain around Sasuke's neck. She examined the silver medallion suspended from it. Just for a second her fingers brushed against his skin of his chest and the whole world seemed to tremble.

"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine," she told him, as if she were talking to a child. "Please just go with the nice man, okay? Don't you want to see Itachi again?"

A frown of incomprehension marked his brow. "Don't you?"

Did she?

Tenten couldn't keep the unease out of her expression or herself from stammering. It would shame her too much to admit the answer to that question.

"Tell you what? I'll let you hang on to my special necklace for awhile longer. That way you'll know for sure I'll come along. I never let it out of my sight."

Now where had she heard that before?

Sasuke's brief smile did not reach his eyes, she thought, making herself smile back, regardless.

Tenten's eyebrows drew together as a distant memory hung over her like a shadow. She felt antagonism flick inside her.

OoOoOo

"_Someone very dear to both of us gave it to me." Rin said, draping the necklace around her throat. "I never let it out of my sight," she murmured. "But I'm giving it to you as a promise that I'll never let you out of my sight—" She dropped another kiss on Tenten's forehead and then pressed her own against it. "—never," Rin swore to her softly._

OoOoOo

She gritted her teeth, steeled her spine and pushed the memory out of her mind. Her mother was liar.

And so was she. "I'm charging you to keep it safe until I get back. There's just something I have to do first," her voice sounded far away from her.

The plastic smile made her face feel stiff.

"I'll wait," Sasuke declared, stunning them with his firmness.

She blinked. Was he unsound or just lacking his memory? It was hard to tell.

Hidan clasped his hand over one of Tenten's shoulders and dragged her to her feet. "What the fuck are you doing?" he whispered. "Don't think that I don't know you're lying. Every time a promise is made on that necklace it's never fulfilled. Kakashi and Rin ring a bell?"

She shrugged, aware that her colour had risen swiftly, guiltily.

"Nii -san came back for you after all?" Sasuke returned her smile. Finally. Except his was beautiful, blazing, and boyish.

It looked a little alien on his lips.

It lasted only a few seconds though because his expression changed suddenly.

"Nii-san came to get you," his face grew shadowed, his feelings apparently mixed on that notion. Different thoughts were in his head now, detectable in his eyes but unreadable.

It was as if some kind of memory was suddenly vivid in his mind.

OoOoOo

_The wind was howling like a horror movie opener and the room was as dark as night. The thunder seemed to crack the air, as if the very heavens might split apart._

_Sasuke ducked with each thunderous boom. He knew it was silly but he couldn't help it. It sounded like a mountainous rock was about to roll him flat. Maybe if it was the sound alone he'd adjust, but the cold rain and flashing forks kept him stuck in adrenaline mode._

_Itachi pinched his cheeks to remind him of his presence and Sasuke immediately calmed. Much as he didn't like to be teased it was a small price to pay for seeking refuge in his brother's room during storms._

"_I don't recall you saying anything about giving her Mr. Chidori. That bear was very dear to you—" Itachi was off chuckling again. His voice was almost taunting when he implied, "—but I imagine so is this girl."_

"_It's not funny nii san," Sasuke closed his eyes, blushing even brighter than when the girl with the twin buns had kissed him on his cheeks. "She doesn't have a home," his voice trembled tearfully. "She won't make it through the storm if you don't help her!"_

_Itachi took a deep breath and said wearily, "You are such a crybaby."_

_His head lowered, "Would it make a difference if I liked her? Would you help her then?" he asked faintly, because he knew Itachi would do anything for him. "For me at least?"_

"_Foolish little brother," he lifted Sasuke's face until he could stare into his eyes. "Just because its storming here doesn't mean it is in Konoha. In fact, it's probably so dry and scorching there that she'd count her blessings if it rained."_

_Sasuke waved his small hands in a gesture of disapproval. "I don't want it to rain there—" and then he incised firmly, his eyes still swam with tears. "—ever."_

"_Why not?" Itachi asked him softly._

"_She'll get wet and catch a cold," he shrugged and wagged an accusing finger at no one in particular. "Her nii san doesn't take very good care of her—at least not like do you with me. I never realized just how lucky I was to have you in my life," he said almost in awe and to himself._

_Suddenly he was being crushed against Itachi's chest. "No silly, I'm lucky to have you."_

_He sighed in deep contentment. All the sentimental stuff aside he felt as if no harm could reach him in his brother's arms. He only wished the same for that poor girl who helped him find his way back to his sensei._

_When they broke apart, Sasuke's lips were pursed in deep thought. He felt Itachi's curious gaze on him. "What's on your mind?" he asked._

_He placed two small fingers at the bridge of his nose and shook his head. "We have to get her off the streets nii san."_

_Itachi poked his forehead and cocked his head to the side, "And how do you propose we do that?"_

_Sasuke straightened the sleeve of his pajamas. Ran his hand over the soft material again and then looked up at him with as much seriousness as a seven year old can possess. "One of us has to marry her," he shrugged his pitifully thin shoulders negligently. "But you'll have to do it because I'm not old enough to have a wife."_

OoOoOo

"—and you're having his baby which means he kept his promise and married you." Sasuke's sigh was softly deflating; it was as if some kind of tension had lifted yet left him with melancholy instead of relief.

Tenten's tongue wet her lips in a snaking forage. "What promise? Sasuke, what are you talking about? Itachi and I aren't—"

Hidan silenced her with a finger, "Let him think what he will. He has the fucking mentality of a kid right now. He'll not understand the complexity of your arrangement. It might even upset him." He patted her shoulder. "Trust me, if he was himself you'd be hauled over his shoulders and taken back to his brother. No questions asked."

"What?" she whispered.

The Sasuke she remembered had been a gentleman. Hidan made him sound rash and brute- like.

He angled a splintering smile over her startled features and laughed with genuine amusement. "People grow up. They change. He's not that charming little boy you remembered."

Tenten pushed a hand through her hair. "Why lie to him about something of this magnitude though? That's like adding insult to injury. He has no recollection of his life after a certain point," she whispered.

Hidan shrugged her off. "That's probably for the best."

"How can you say that? It won't make it any less painful for him to find out about his parents or Itachi and I," she said in somewhat of a shrill voice.

"I made nii san promise to make you his wife so you wouldn't have to live on the streets anymore," Sasuke finally explained.

Her eyes softened, a sad smile curved her lips.

This was Itachi younger brother.

This was the little boy who showed her that such a thing as kindness existed.

Tenten honestly didn't know which made her more fond of him.

It was as if Sasuke was his seven year old self again—the self she knew. However, his tone didn't carry an ounce of the blatant admiration one would assume his words to convey. Nor was his face alight with the childish enthusiasm and awe that she remembered on his face when he spoke of Itachi that day.

Another sigh escaped him. It was slow, as if his brain needed that time to process the reality of what has happened.

Hidan snickered. "This is probably a case of not being careful what you wish for."

Searing pink burnished Tenten's cheeks. "You had asked your brother to marry me?"

Sasuke nodded.

Even with this knowledge Tenten knew she'd be a fool to think that it gave her any deeper understanding of why Itachi kept her around. All she did know now for sure was that he was about as likely to marry her because of a silly promise to his brother, as he was likely to marry her for love.

In order words, it was highly improbable.

Marrying her would've been easy though, because it meant absolutely nothing to him. But apparently she wasn't worthy of being his wife, even if it was just for convenience sake and in name only.

She didn't know why she was stupid enough to fall for him. The true state of his feelings for her—total indifference—should make her radiant with relief for her lucky escape. Not make her feel like a cold, wet Sunday, Tenten told herself tartly.

Tenten moved forward again. "Can you tell me how you got here Sasuke? What happened to you?"

"I don't know," he flinched as he pulled his collar down to scratch his neck. It revealed great purple welts that would only deepen over the coming weeks. "I just want to find my brother."

"How did you get that?" She asked worriedly.

"Someone thought I was a thief," Sasuke cut in with some private amusement and shrugged. "I've gotten worse."

Against his ghostly skin they are grotesque, but Tenten knew he was lucky not to have a broken neck.

Memory stirred again. And as it did she pulled an unimpressed face.

OoOoOo

_Sasuke's little hand closed over her upper arm. Tenten flinched. With a frown, he scooped away the tangle of hair covering it, revealing an ugly bruise. "How did you get that?"_

_"Some people are of the belief that all homeless kids are crooks," she answered vaguely._

_"I'm sorry." he said tersely._

_She shrugged. "I've had worse," she told him sadly._

OoOoOo

All she could do was look at him, and of its own volition her lower lip began to tremble and tears sprang to her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Sasuke."

"For fucks sake don't cry woman. You're not responsible for any of this," Hidan scowled.

Tenten wasn't listening. She knelt on the ground once again, her body hunched over Sasuke, arms wrapped around him. Her slender hands ran over his tangled hair and back.

His stomach growled and he squirmed to try to silence the rumbling.

Life had a very morbid sense of humour, Tenten realized. This was exactly as their first meeting had gone.

But it was apparent that they've swapped roles.

And lives.

But Sasuke has been enduring hers for far longer than she had, his.

Either that or they were two halves of a whole.

And Itachi was their line of symmetry.

* * *

**A/N: ****This chapter was made to parallel chp 17 and a few others in subtext with hints of foreshadowing. I don't know if anyone caught on to that, enjoyed this or is still interested in the continuation of this story. Reviews are always appreciated.**

If you found Sasuke ooc, please consider his state of mind and situation. It's not very far-fetched that kid Sasuke (mentally) would behave like that. Apologies in advance however if you didn't like him.


	29. When Two Hearts Are One

**Help Wanted**

**Chapter Twenty-Nine — When Two Hearts Are One**

**Dedicated to orphica (from Tumblr)**

* * *

"**Maybe we needed to break a little, so we could put ourselves back together more beautifully than before."**

— **Leah Raeder**

Silence had fallen, the only serenade being a cricket that chirped languorously in a pool of flickering yellow light from one of the battered street lamps. A gust of wind swept around them, whipping Tenten's hair so violently about her face that she momentarily couldn't see at all.

"Alright, let's go." Hidan moved towards her with a lethal elegance of movement that was so uncharacteristic of him. But impatience radiated from him like nuclear fallout. "For fuck's sake release the damn boy. You're not only suffocating him but you're getting his dirt all over yourself," he said with the suggestion of gritted teeth. "That's two dirty persons more than I'm willing to carry in my fucking car."

Tenten forced her head up and as she clashed with his brilliant pink eyes, she felt oddly transparent, horribly vulnerable all of a sudden. He knew there was no way she would've said no to Sasuke.

She gave him a cool look that did not disguise her annoyance. If she were a book then Hidan could be considered her most avid reader. Better him than Itachi, she thought drily and felt the familiar black hatred surge through her as her mind dwelled on the man she had fancied herself to be falling for.

Abruptly, Tenten stood up and their surroundings swam dizzily around them. She had had far too much alcohol, she dismissed ruefully. "Alright, I'll take you back to Itachi," she declared, putting her hand on Sasuke's.

He took her hand, holding it so tightly that she thought the bones would crack.

"It's the least I can do for you," she told him, closing her eyes to try and hold back the tears.

One second passed.

Two seconds passed.

Three seconds passed.

And as the guilt ate and pestered her, they leaked beneath her lashes and slid down her face. A fire burned in her mind and throat. Remorse hit her like a sledgehammer.

She could hardly believe the state that Sasuke was in. She had figuratively _taken his life_, but literally speaking—death would've been mercy.

Upon closer inspection she noticed another huge bruising on his elbow. Mud and grit had become enmeshed with the raw pink flesh and it was spotted with blood. The wound was going to be very painful to clean, Tenten thought, suspecting that it might even have already been infected.

"Like, hell, it is the fucking least you can do," Hidan agreed in a sudden aside, his white brows drawing together in a frown.

Her lashes lowered. He was right.

For the homeless and unwanted, compassion and consideration from anyone was the closest they ever came to experiencing love. The day Tenten had met Sasuke she learnt that compassion could be just as great. His kindness towards her had been so much love that her tiny heart could've exploded just by being around someone who actually cared. She never forgot that day.

"Don't you worry, I'll make certain you get back to your brother," she swore with all her heart.

"Why are you crying?" Sasuke asked in that child-like voice, frowning at the glimmer of tears on her cheek.

Tenten blinked the water from her eyes and drew back slightly to look at him. Subconsciously her mind morphed his face back into the adorable cast of features that she remembered—the ones that suited his voice. Not the ruggedly handsome and sculpted features that were a visual attestation to an enviable mix of inherited genes.

The ground seemed to tilt beneath her feet but her eyes went on surveying him, completely without expression. Those black eyes of his that were so much like Itachi's took hold of her equilibrium and tore it to shreds. A welter of precious imagery she had stored within her memory banks suddenly overwhelmed her.

Like a sweeping, drowning tide, memory rushed through her, taking both herself and Sasuke several years back.

OoOoOoOo

_It was late when they located Orochimaru-sensei and the other students, after Tenten had agreed to help Sasuke and his friends find their way around the town. The early evening lull came to the streets of Konoha, the light of the day draining away. The heat of it ebbed to comforting warmth as the sun sank lower in the sky. The last rays of sunset light flamed on red brick walls—characteristic of most Law Enforcement buildings in Konoha._

_Tenten's eyes drifted to the small hands enclosing her own and flushed._

_Sasuke's protectiveness was touching. He seemed so fearful that she would get separated from them and lost amongst the crowd despite the fact that he was the foreigner in her hometown. She smiled sadly to herself. _

_Suddenly they stopped in their tracks. Tenten stared across the wide Konoha street._

"_Well it looks like we've found the others," she murmured uncomfortably, absorbing her companions' stunned pallor as they eyed the brick façade. _

_A part of her wished she could get on that bus with them and end this chapter of her life. It was like a drawn out thriller—without any thrills at all._

_But these kids belonged to a different sphere. One in which Tenten knew she didn't—wouldn't—couldn't ever fit. A world of privilege and class, peopled by well-bred, elite movers and shakers. _

"_Is that what I think is it?" Sasuke pulled a face. _

"_I hope you guys don't get into too much trouble with your sensei," Tenten said as if it was any consolation and tried to pull free._

_But she thought better of it when she saw the bustle. Taxis darted across her line of vision, and row upon row of tour buses were lined up, with hundreds of tourists either alighting or embarking—a blatant indication that an airport was nearby. _

_It took them roughly two hours to find the school bus. This was owing to the fact that the spot Karin claimed it to have been parked before Sasuke and Suigetsu strayed off on their own little adventure, was vacant when the group arrived at the Leaf Museum. The trio spent the better part of an hour bickering amongst themselves before Tenten suggested they visited all the sites the trip was supposed to cover._

_It was Karin who ran through the list of places they were supposed to visit from memory, checking off the ones they had already been to. After they exhausted the list of locations without any luck, Tenten figured the next course of action was to contact the police._

"_Considering that the school bus is parked outside a Police Station, I'd say we're in for a month's worth of detention." Karin raked her rippling Titian red hair back from her brow, a fiery mix of disbelief and temper leaping through her little frame. "I should've never followed these idiots."_

"_We can just lie and say we were kidnapped," Suigetsu suggested, sounding rather pleased with himself. _

_He stumbled under fire from an outraged crimson-red stare of enquiry. "No one will believe that, you idiot," Karin condemned, stomping on his toes._

"_I'm sure they'll be too relieved you're all alright to punish you," Tenten supposed, injecting a little optimism. "Just tell them the truth. You got separated from the rest of the group and couldn't find your way."_

"_Thanks again." Sasuke smiled at her with such undisguised gratitude in his eyes, she flushed vividly. Then he added with as much smug satisfaction his seven years allowed him, "I'll never forget you. I'm indebted to you."_

"_Not at all," she said faintly, more affected by their connected hands than she cared to let him know. "You must be homesick by now."_

"_I miss my brother, certainly," he murmured sadly._

"_If I had a brother like yours I would too," she said, so forlornly that for a moment he studied her shuttered face anxiously. Then without conjuring the will to do so he put an arm around her and held her close in wordless comfort._

_To his dismay, tears suddenly slid down his cheeks. _

_He quickly wiped them away against the lose tendrils of her hair and hugged her close—though she was no cleaner than a street rat. "With a brother like yours I can understand that," Sasuke acknowledged._

"_Why are you crying?" she taunted, awkwardly sinking into the warmth of his embrace, appreciative of the simple gesture. _

_His small frame trembled against hers but his hold became rib-cracking. "If you won't cry, I'll do it for you."_

"_Oh," the single syllable dropped from her lips. _

_Her sorrow had brought her so far gone that she couldn't shed a tear. Still, she smiled radiantly, feeling suddenly so light-hearted she wanted to hug him to death. Life felt a little less bleak in that moment. _

_It was when Karin purposely cleared her throat that Tenten wrenched herself free and averted her face scarlet with embarrassment. _

_Suigetsu snickered, his eyes like freshly polished amethyst. "This works out just perfectly. A long distance relationship is Sasuke's safest bet—" he broke off to cough._

_Karin elbowed him in his gut. "Oh shut up."_

"—_she looks too much like his Aunt Rin. Obito-san might try to steal her away," he threw back his little head and giggled. "He's scary when it comes to that woman."_

"_You're making a meal out of nothing," she told him flatly, bitterly. "He's just grateful to her, as am I."_

_Sasuke mopped his eyes and sniffed. "I hope your brother comes back soon." He told Tenten, his face suddenly serious. Then he reached into his backpack. "In the meantime, Mr. Chidori will keep you company. My brother gave him to me so he's special. Take care of him, okay?" he said, his cheeks pink._

_Wide brown eyes blinked at him in bewilderment. In his little hands he hesitantly held out a blue teddy bear with a bolt of lightning stitched at the heart. _

_She could tell that the bear was dear to him just by the look in his eyes—as if he was parting with a close friend. Tenten let out an irrepressible giggle. "Aren't you a little too old to be carrying around a teddy bear?" _

_A slow, deep flush of annoyance reddened Sasuke's complexion and he made an attempt to return the stuffed animal in his bag. "Fine," he huffed, greatly offended. "If you don't want—"_

_With a sudden choked sound between a laugh and a sob, Tenten reached up spontaneously and kissed his cheek, at which point Suigetsu demanded a kiss too. "I didn't mean anything by it. I'm sorry. I've never owned a toy before. Thank you, I'll take good care of him. I promise." _

_She pressed the stuffed animal against her chest and held up a pinkie finger in a gesture of promise._

"—_Mr. Chidori is not a toy," Sasuke insisted arrogantly. "Nii-san said he is my guardian. Do you see that bolt of lightning on his chest?" he asked, indicating with his chubby fingers. "Mr. Chidori wields lightning and thunder. He's basically a god. If he's by your side, storms won't ever get you."_

_Even as Tenten wholeheartedly accepted the gift, her adorable little face set in grim lines. "I don't fear the storms that come announced. It's the quiet ones that I fear. Will Mr. Chidori be able to protect me then?" she asked, her voice not quite as steady._

"_That's a marriage proposal right there," Suigetsu jeered, nudging Karin in her side and winking._

_The girl's mouth flattened into a strained line before she snapped, "Don't be silly. It's like a lord entrusting his most trusted knight with his lady. That doesn't mean—" _

"_Exactly," he agreed, looking rampantly amused as he watched her colour recede._

_Karin's humiliation plumbed new depths. "—oh shut up. I'm telling Orochimaru-sensei ditching the group was your idea."_

OoOoOoOo

Tenten smiled fondly at the memory. Then the smile faded. "If you won't cry, I'll do it for you," she answered finally, her tear-thickened voice muffled against Sasuke's tattered shirt.

"Don't go stealing my lines," he said, and she gave a strangled little sound, half-laugh, half hiccup.

Incredulity ballooned, melded with a quite different emotion—one that made her feel light as air. Inside her head words formed and when she spoke her voice came out as soft as crushed velvet. "You actually remember that conversation?"

"Yeah," he didn't laugh like a man, he giggled like a boy.

It was like listening to her inner child breaking out. Yet everything else about him was all man. But his eyes—they still had that strange kind of softness to them. There was something so welcoming in their dark, inky depths. Tenten felt just a little more lost, a little more at home, each time she looked into them.

Sasuke smoothed an unsteady hand over her hair. The light, delicate touch snapped her self-control. She sagged against him, racked by sobs—though he was no cleaner than a street rat.

She bit her lip until it hurt. "Thank you for remembering not to forget me."

Could one naïve little promise have meant so much to him that even in the face of the trauma he had suffered his subconsciousness refused to let go of her memory? Her heart ached just to think of it.

Hidan drew in his breath sharply. "Alright you little fuckers, break it up. It's time to get out of here." When neither of them moved, he loosed his pent-up breath in an aggressive hiss. "I don't like having to repeat myself, especially to indecisive little girls and prodigal sons who are supposed to be dead." Almost, almost he gave a bark of laughter. Mordant, black. "You guys are a mess. Itachi's the only one who'll know what to do with either of you. That is unless Obito fucking finds you first—"

He left the warning hanging.

Or so Tenten thought.

There was a sudden blast of cold air and the flare of headlights around them. Her head shot up as she heard the roar of a powerful engine somewhere up ahead.

Acting on instinct, she grabbed Sasuke and darted in front of Hidan's car. She waved her hand in frantic warning as a black jeep came surging round the bend through a cloud of dust.

Hidan managed to pull them out of the way at the last minute, Tenten's heart hammering at her ribs as the car swerved to halt just a yard or so away, its heavy tyres scattering sand and pebbles in all directions.

A little shaken and breathless, Hidan ushered them behind him. He gripped his pistol in both hands and stood his ground as the driver dismounted the vehicle. His face was a mask of rage.

Tenten stood stiff, wary—panicked. Stress and heat were frying her brain. She looked down at her fingers on Sasuke's wrist, and released it, but kept hold of his hand, smoothing her thumb over the red marks she'd left on his skin when she grabbed him.

The air felt as thick as muffled silk.

Sasuke's breath came in small spurts, hot and nervous. Pain knifed through her—that jagged, serrated pain again, tearing out her guts. Growing accustomed to street life didn't automatically grant immunity to all the horrors that came along with it. Sasuke was terrified out of his wits.

Had Hidan jinxed them by mentioning Obito? It was definitely a style of attack the Uchiha fancied. Tenten would never forget that evening he came back with a huge dent in the bumper of his Jeep that he tried to pass off as a mild collision with another vehicle. The blood on the tires and the hair in the grille—not fur—but pink hair, told a different story.

In the days prior to, Tenten recalled complaining to Obito about a group of girls who kept picking on her in class. Suffice it to say, she never complained again because there was no longer any reason to.

Obito made certain of that.

Haruno Sakura was found a few weeks later, reeking of metal and rotting flesh. Even through the grime it wasn't hard to tell that her skin had more abrasions than a knocked about stray mutt. It had grayed in a way that made it look thicker—more leathery, and stretched over her stark bones. Insects crawled up and down her stiff corpse. According to the news report Sakura was cut open from the stomach and the assailant left her there to die, with her womb cradled in her arms.

Autopsy however, revealed she had actually died from trauma to the head.

Tenten wished with all her might that she hadn't known exactly _how_.

Ignorance really was bliss.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" A voice broke through her thoughts. It was harsh, curious, clearly angry and definitely not Obito's. There was a note of hysteria in it. "Where are you taking Hikaru?"

It was not just a question, it was a demand.

"Who is it?" Tenten whispered, standing on her tip-toes.

She tried to get a look at the incoming party by peering over Hidan's shoulders but she was too diminutive in height compared to him. He shrugged those broad shoulders of his fractionally in response and she interpreted it as a sign of no immediate danger.

"Well what does she want?" she asked, an edge of panic still unmistakable in her tone.

There was a taut little silence.

Hidan and the unwelcomed female were like two snarling dogs—quietly circling each other, waiting to see who would lash out first. His deep drawl pushed against the silence.

"There's nobody by that fucking name here, so just run along," he ordered curtly, shielding his weapon from view.

"Make me," the woman grounded out rather childishly.

He gave a derisive laugh. "You drive as well as you clean tables and that's the furthest fucking thing from a compliment."

"Hand over the boy and spare the situation from getting as ugly as you are pretty," she suggested calmly.

"It seems driving isn't the only thing you do as well as you clean tables. Apparently flirting can be added to the list as well. I wonder what else," his pink gaze ran indecently up the length of her body and back down. "Anko was it?"

At that name Tenten stepped out from behind him and came face to face with dark eyes that bored like twin drills into the tender flesh of her soul.

"Don't flatter yourself, fuckboys aren't my type," Anko folded her arms across her chest, her expression full of scorn. "Kaoru, what exactly is going on here?" she turned to Tenten and asked sharply, her gaze suspicious. "What business do you have with Hikaru?"

Hikaru? Tenten's frown brought her eyebrows together. She had a few questions of her own. "What did you just call Sasuke?"

Anko was silent a moment. It stretched endlessly, until, "His name is Hikaru. Uchiha Sasuke is dead. He has been dead for—" her voice choked as she watched Tenten freeze and watched her with eyes that had frozen as well. She swallowed hard, "You're mistaken this is Hikaru and—"

"—and Hikaru is a variation of the name Kaoru," the young brunette supplied. The wheels in her head were turning at a mile per second.

OoOoOoOo

"_Did you know that 'Kaoru' is usually the name given to unidentified female corpses by detectives during investigations? Some really cool people from the precinct downtown came to talk forensics during career week."_

_A faint frown creased Kakashi's forehead. "And that makes you happy? That thing about your name, I mean?"_

"_I guess," Tenten said faintly, trying to hide her dismay. A deep wrenching sadness clutched her heart. Of course it didn't make her happy. "I never knew my parents. I know nothing of my origin so—" She turned her head away and stared blindly outside the window. "—I guess the name is suiting. It's basically the only thing in my life that has some semblance of meaning."_

_There was a long silence._

_She was itching to tell him about the murder case involving the unknown twins whose corpses had been found at either ends of the city. Both of whom had had their limbs amputated and rearranged to create cruel monuments of famous abstract art pieces. It was also discovered that by replacing water and fat in human tissues with certain plastics, the psychopathic artist was able to preserve the twin's bodies. _

_The Plastination Case, it was dubbed. And Hikaru and Kaoru were the placeholder names given to unidentified victims. _

"_Kaoru," Mr. Hatake cleared his throat, pulling Tenten out of her musing. "A name is just a name. It does not define you in anyway." _

OoOoOoOo

It was all morbidly symbolic and ironic.

The twins had been found at either ends of the city and Sasuke and Tenten found themselves living at either ends of socioeconomic extremes.

Hidan rubbed at his jaw for a moment or two. "Kaoru was the name given to you by that whack-job to safeguard your identity, wasn't it?"

"Yeah. Circumstances aside, it's kind of ironic that Sasuke was given that name," she told Hidan, smiling so bleakly he couldn't look at her. "I was Kaoru when I didn't know who I was. Now that Sasuke's sailing in the same boat, he's Hikaru." She gave a laugh. It sounded the slightest bit forced. "I don't think any of this is a coincidence."

A nerve ticked in Hidan's cheek. "You think Obito has something to do with this?"

She captured her bottom lip for a moment, in thought. Itachi once told her that there had been a rift between Obito and the rest of the Uchiha family. Perhaps keeping Sasuke alive and tormenting him was his way of getting back at them, or rather, his way of getting back at Itachi.

But get back at Itachi for what exactly? Not dying along with his parents like he was supposed to that night?

Tenten shook her head silently. Obito wasn't above resorting to such petty tactics. After all, torturing her had been his way of getting back at Kakashi—and Rin, to a lesser extent. But it didn't make sense that Sasuke would be Obito's captive and he was allowed to roam the world so freely.

Her eyes went to the boy, her expression wry.

He was supposedly dead for eight years. For almost seven of those said years she had been in Obito's _care. _If Sasuke had been hidden away somewhere, chances are she would've came across him, at least once. Obito practically dragged her everywhere he went.

"Now that I've thought about it, I don't think so," Tenten shifted her accusing inferno of a gaze to Anko. "Perhaps you can put things into perspective for us," she prompted with a disdainful tilt to her mouth.

Hidan raised an eyebrow and closed the distance between himself and Anko in a few moments. He snaked out a hand, closing it over her wrist. It was like a steel band. "It's pretty fucking suspect that you know he's an Uchiha."

She held his gaze for an uncomfortable pause. She felt as if she was being slowly but steadily backed into a tight corner.

His eyes flashed at her like a bolt of magenta-coloured lightning. "And not only that. You're aware that he's allegedly deceased as well." His fingers bit callously into the skin of her wrist. "Yet you insist he's someone else. What are you playing at?"

"It's for his own protection," she spat, wrenching her arm from his, rubbing at her wrist where his fingers had been. "Kaoru what is the meaning of this?"

"My name isn't Kaoru," Tenten told her at last, her tone sounding terse. "It's Tenten. I'm—" she saw the shock flash like lightning over Anko's face.

The breath fell from her. "Tenten?"

Anko must've recognized the name. But how?

"—Kakashi's daughter," she hadn't intended to tell her quite so bluntly but she thought that if she shocked the woman out of her mind with the news, it would be easier to get Anko to fess up about the affiliation she shared with Sasuke.

It was a trick she learned from Obito. 'Psychological Shock Therapy' was what he called it. Not even a bottle of Uchiha Spirits was quite as quick at loosening the tongue like it.

"_When shock comes over you, it takes over, and you kind of go through the motions. You do what is intended for you to do because in that moment you're not actually there at all."_ That was what he had told Tenten and to date it proved to be true.

Itachi's penchant for shocking her was after all what made him so successful at playing her like the stricken fiddle that she was.

"Aren't you going to answer my colleague's question?" Tenten asked irritably.

"He didn't ask one." Anko responded tartly. She allowed three beats of silence to pass. "You're Kakashi's daughter?"

Those three words—hearing them out loud like that—were like arrows through her heart. Tenten gave herself a mental shake. It didn't bode well to dwell on the past and forget to look forward to the future. Herself and Kakashi had many years ahead of them to make up for all the lost time. Besides, they had a few years behind them as well. It's just that back then they were teacher and student. Not father and daughter.

Tenten nodded and watched as Anko's expression underwent various fleeting changes: disbelief, cynicism and then a flicker of uncertainty, which she immediately masked.

The silence was so thick Tenten could taste it when she ran her tongue across her dry lips.

Anko's back visibly stiffened, although her tone sounded calm and even. "But how?"

Hidan looked at her as if she was speaking another language. "What the fuck do you mean _how_? Kakashi and Rin fucked and Tenten came along." There was wariness in his voice, and suspicion. Anko was being evasive, and he was running out of patience. "It's a pretty fucking easy concept to grasp."

"You're supposed to be dead," she murmured without infliction.

Tenten shrugged awkwardly. When she looked at her she saw nothing but concern in Anko's dark eyes, and she felt a sudden urge to confide in her. She was Kakashi's closest confidant after all. He told her everything. She probably had all the answers to the questions Tenten wanted to ask.

"You recognized my name, didn't you?" Tenten asked enquiringly, a tad bit hopeful to make some kind of headway with her parent's backstory.

Anko gave a tiny swallow. "It's not a common one. Kakashi made up your name on the spot." Her expression changed. Softened. "It was the tenth day of the tenth month when he decided on your name. He was never the creative type."

Tenten hung on to her every word.

"I was the only person he told about you. You were just a four month old foetus." She gave a light laugh. "And with each month that you grew inside Rin, hell rose a bit closer to the surface."

"A little bit of heaven that would raise all of hell," she whispered, her voice sounding as if it came from a long way off.

"Yeah, that's exactly what Kakashi said," Anko gave a reminiscent smile. Then suddenly her expression grew hauntingly serious. "You're supposed to be dead."

"Yeah, well so is Sasuke," Hidan rolled his eyes in frustration. "I don't see what all the fuss is about. We don't have time for chitchat."

His tone wasn't amiable and Tenten sensed that he did not intend to be delayed any further. She bit her lip in impotent annoyance. It might've only been a few ambiguous lines but she couldn't help but thirst for more. She wanted to know everything.

But Hidan was probably right. If she got too consumed by Anko's tales she might feel more inclined to remain behind and she promised Sasuke she would accompany him back to Amegakure. The sooner she got him home, the sooner she could return to hers. And when she did Kakashi would be here, waiting on her.

"Tell us what you know so we can be on our fucking way."

Anko let out her breath in a sudden long hissing stream. "You're not taking him anywhere."

Sasuke backed off a startled step and Tenten stood in front of him almost as though she were his personal automated defense system. She was shaken by the feeling of fierce protectiveness that swept through her. She tried to dismiss it as not having anything to do with the fact that he was Itachi's brother.

"Yeah?" Hidan towered over Anko, his eyes slitted. His long-fingered hands pushed back his jacket, indenting around his lean hips. "You plan to stop us? You and what fucking army?"

She caught a glimpse of the barrel of his gun before a dark cloud erased the effect of the moon's precious silver rays on the metal. "It's not safe for him," she shook her hair back, turning her face up to him in appeal.

Tenten's chocolate-brown eyes instantly went wide. "What do you mean by that?"

She shook her head again, not wanting to articulate. "I'm not entirely sure to be honest. What I do know is that Kakashi got the idea of his alias from a conversation he had with you."

"Kakashi?" Tenten was silent for a moment, trying to assimilate the knowledge that her rant about something as trivial as a name had left such an impression that Kakashi reapplied her logic. Anko received an arch look from her. "What has he got to do with anything?"

Anko gave a resigned sigh. "A few weeks ago he and I were out taking a stroll. That was when we found Sasuke, tattered and wandering along these streets. He claimed to be searching for a friend who wore her hair in two buns." For a moment, she just stared at Tenten, her expression curious. "My intention was to have him put up in a shelter somewhere. Of course I didn't recognize him at first."

"You and Kakashi were out on a stroll?" Hidan interrupted in a drawl as lazy as a hot summer afternoon. "I see how it is." He jeered with dulcet cool. Then he laughed with a sudden amusement that both Tenten and Anko found unnerving. "Say hello to your step mother, Tenten."

"If it wasn't for Kakashi I doubt I'd have figured out exactly who he was. The last I saw of Sasuke Uchiha he was in an obituary." Anko paused to glare at Hidan, her face pink and hot. "Oh, shut up."

"You're so fucking transparent," he remarked with formidable cool.

"He had a severe case of amnesia when we found him and he hasn't recovered much of anything since," she told them gravely. "I'd say he remembers everything that happened within the first seven or eight years of his life. Anything after that is lost to him."

"That much, I gathered," Tenten muttered.

"Fortunately he remembered Kakashi. He used to be rather close to the Uchiha family back in the day," Anko continued. "But Sasuke didn't trust him enough to come back home with us. He was hell-bent on remaining in that shed. He said and that he was waiting on his friend and—"

"And what?" Hidan asked drily.

"—that he was hiding from his cousin."

Hidan and Tenten exchanged a brief glance of mutual intrigue, but neither felt it necessary to make a remark. Something akin to panic shrilled through Tenten. Had Sasuke been referring to Obito?

"Kakashi seemed to have understood what he meant and suggested that we leave him be for the time being." Anko added with a sober smile, "Sasuke might not look it right now, but he's as strong as he is stubborn. We couldn't drag his ass outta here even if we wanted to. The only thing we could do was make sure he had food and water."

Taken aback by that startling reveal, Tenten frowned, "You say that like he's some sort of caged animal."

"Oh, no!" Anko broke in hurriedly, keen to make that denial for she could now see how terrible a light such a comment would paint her. "It's not like that at all. Kakashi thought he would be safer being just another homeless person rather than Uchiha Sasuke."

"No offence kiddo but your daddy's logic sucks," Hidan told Tenten.

"If Obito is involved then I can actually understand his reasoning." She felt wretchedly guilty though she had no way of knowing the supposed _dead_ had been waiting on her for _release_ all this while. "How long has he been staying here?" she asked.

"I can't say for sure. Like I said, it was a couple weeks back that we found out he was here."

"A couple weeks back?" He grasped Anko's shoulders, eyes suddenly level and serious again. "You fucking found him weeks ago and didn't report it? We can press charges against you for that."

Defiantly, she lifted her chin. "And who are you to do that?"

"She's nii-san's wife—" Sasuke slotted in with some amount of quiet authority.

Tenten froze in so much recoil from that declaration that she could not for an instant trust herself to speak.

Anko stared between them, confused and miserable, and lost for words. Her face drained of all colour. "What?"

"—and she's also my friend. I told you she'd come," he finished with an enthused smirk.

"Is that true?"

In the tense silence that stretched between them Tenten felt increasingly awkward. That monster's wife? Never, she thought savagely. She had been absolutely torn apart by humiliated rejection and hurt when he tossed her out. To claim the title of Itachi's wife even in pretence degraded her.

"It's as he says. She's here to take him back to her husband," Hidan answered, his emphasis of that last word reluctant.

He watched the flow of warm pink colour burnish Tenten's cheeks and the uncertain flutter of her lashes. As he noted the tiny pulse beating out her tension below her collarbone, he recognized that she was neither indifferent nor cold, but raw with nerves and struggling to hide the fact. She was only playing cool for Sasuke's sake. He could tell she was itching to give the entire world a piece of her mind.

"If you'll fucking excuse us, we have to be on our way," he rapped out.

"No," Anko breathed hoarsely. "You don't just drop bombs like that and leave. Kaoru what is going on?"

"Her name is Ten-fucking-Ten," Hidan grated. "And what's going on is that we're fucking leaving. Are you satisfied now?"

"What's this about Itachi Uchiha? How did you manage to pull that off?"

"You're better off not knowing," Tenten told her shortly.

She was struggling to disguise her overwhelming discomfiture and must have sounded more abrupt than she had intended because Anko interspersed quickly, "Kakashi was at the bar earlier today, judging from that I can tell he doesn't know any of this. But how can you be Kakashi's child?" she asked her, unable to hide her surprise at the idea that she was right to have questioned Tenten's uncanny resemblance to Rin.

"It's a long story. I only just found out about the possibility a few hours ago and you just confirmed them. Kakashi and Rin did in fact have a child and it's no coincidence that I was given the name he'd initially intended for it."

"Do you plan on telling him?"

Tenten smiled sadly, "Of course. I want nothing more, so please don't say anything until I get back."

Anko's gaze fell on Sasuke then she nodded in understanding. There was no point in delaying the boy's reunion with his brother any longer. It has been eight years. Besides, it would be best if when Tenten and Kakashi finally got to catch up that it was done without any haste or distraction of anyone else around. If she sought him out now, while she had Sasuke to take home, that wouldn't be possible.

"I don't see the harm in agreeing to that," Anko's head tilted toward the already black sky. The moonlight streamed down upon her wintry pale skin. The shape of her lips reflecting the crescent above. "I mean, it's not like Kakashi's just suddenly going die before you return. The probability is rather low."

Tenten's soft lips stretched into a smile but didn't quite reach her eyes. They were lit with sadness and doubt. The forced expression of the contrary on her mouth would have looked comical to Anko if it didn't make her heart feel heavy.

"Do what you must. He'll be here, waiting," she assured the younger girl.

OoOoOoOo

The atmosphere on the private ward of Amegakure Memorial Hospitals was a complete contrast of the hustle and bustle found elsewhere throughout the establishment. The nurses went about their rounds unhurried and with a serene purposefulness from room to room. The air had a purge of fragrance, not sterile, just clean. The hallways were sleek and spotless, complete with plush chairs and beautifully framed art pieces. A picture of a beach was sprawled on each wall, each depicting beautiful scenery; rolling waves on idyllic sand.

It felt more like the lobby of a hotel than a hospital waiting room.

"How much fucking longer is Itachi going to make us wait?" Hidan queried with an edge of impatience in his voice. "I called him almost a fucking hour ago from the hospital phone and he still hasn't shown up."

Tenten remained silent. Polite chit-chat was beyond her at this point, and the simmering tension that hovered like a spectre, owing to her impending confrontation with Itachi, stretched her nerves to screaming point. She hadn't only suggested they took Sasuke to see a doctor as soon as they arrived in Amegakure for solely obvious reasons. It was also to postpone having to face Itachi so soon.

"I thought he would've dropped everything and come flying at the mention of his brother being alive."

"Maybe he thought you were playing a nasty joke on him," she was filled with so much restlessness it was a wonder how she managed to speak without stuttering. "I would never have believed you if I hadn't seen Sasuke for myself."

His voice was light as he stood up, "Well, this gives me an excuse to flirt with the cute nurse at the front desk."

"What?"

"I need to borrow her phone again," he smirked, a wicked glint in his eyes. "You look like you're about to meet your maker and he'll sentence you to life in hell," he teased and stalked off. Not before indicating with a nudge of his head to a tiny black coffee table across from her. "Maybe one of those will teach you how to cope."

Tenten glanced at the mental health magazines and scowled. If it had been left up to her they wouldn't have phoned Itachi until Sasuke was properly attended to and she was well on her way back to Konoha. But nothing ever worked in her favour. The psychiatrist in charge took her aside and gravely told her that neither one of them could consent to having Sasuke taken under the hospital's care because they weren't related by blood. Apparently his amnesia and current mental state rendered him as a minor and as such they require the permission of an elder relative or guardian for any kind of treatment to commence.

"Tenten."

The sound of that drawl tore the breath from her throat, and her heartbeat stilled imperceptibly, then kicked in at an accelerated rate. It took only seconds to compose her features before she turned slowly to face the man standing within touching distance.

She had practiced this very moment in her head and imagined that she would look at him and feel nothing. Nothing but the bitter hatred of him for his cruel and ruthless rejection and his inexcusable lack of respect.

And yet that first glimpse of him sent a shockwave through her that made her feel as if the floor beneath her feet was suddenly shifting. Emotions she was trying to bolt down with bitter determination came popping against their restraints.

One by one she could feel them spreading through her, making her chest ache with the weight of them. How could it physically hurt to see someone face to face? How could her heart feel pain like a stab wound at seeing his tall, imposing frame standing there? How could her insides clench and twist when his coal-black eyes met hers?

Perhaps it had nothing to do with her and more the sorry state of Itachi.

There were bruise-like shadows beneath his thickly lashed bloodshot eyes. His hair was loose and looked as if his fingers had been the last thing that moved through it.

"It took you long enough to get here," Tenten straightened her shoulders.

He just stood there. His eyes were clear and unwavering, their dark depths masking something with some semblance of pain.

"Tenten," he said her name.

Said it in that deep, rich voice that moved along her skin like a caress.

"I'll tell Hidan that you've finally showed up," she said and spun on her heel.

He snagged one of her arms to stall her.

Tenten felt the steely grip of his long, strong fingers on her bare arm as he turned her back to face him. His touch was like a flame. It seared her skin like a brand. Every nerve flinched beneath her skin. She felt her stomach go hollow as his eyes locked on hers. She didn't want to lose herself in that glittering dark gaze.

"Do not touch me," she said, shooting him a livid look

His fingers softened their hold but he didn't release her. She felt her heart give a nervous flutter as the broad pad of his thumb slid down to her pulse. Could he feel the thud of those hit-and-miss beats? She surreptitiously moistened her mouth but his gaze caught the movement.

His eyes darkened, the pupils disappearing into the molten obsidian of his irises. She knew that look so well.

It triggered a visceral reaction in her body. The pulse of longing was like a lightning strike through her. Every erotic moment they had ever shared flashed through her brain like a film on fast-forward. And they made a mockery of every paltry attempt she made to make herself immune. What hope of immunity did she have when one look from those dark eyes made her blood rush through her veins at breakneck speed?

A little silence passed.

He tipped up her chin with his other hand, his eyes dark and penetrating as they held hers.

"I'm sorry," he said heavily.

She snapped out of her reverie like an elastic band that had been stretched too far. "Sorry?"

The only thing holding her upright was her fury and resentment and hatred towards him. Nothing was going to melt it. Not even a signed apology from God himself. Itachi had vilified her cruelly. Her ears still rang with his hateful, unforgettable, unforgivable words. There was no way she was going to let him off lightly, if at all.

"You're sorry? Get out of my fucking way Itachi," she threw at him resentfully.

As she wrenched herself free, Tenten skidded on the carpet underfoot and fell bodily against Itachi, who had braced himself for the collision and took her weight on his chest.

Her bangs fell into her eyes and she stared up at him through a tangle of brown silk. She swallowed against her parched throat as she caught the unguarded look in his eyes.

"It's your birthday today isn't it?" he murmured, stroking her hair back from her face. "March ninth."

Was he was going to kiss her? She wondered, with the tiny part of her brain still capable of thought. It was hardly the time or place for such theatrics.

His dark head lowered, seemingly in slow motion, and she felt the warmth of his breath on her cheek. Already that sensual mouth was hovering milimetres from hers, and she couldn't deny the heady excitement that swept over her.

Without conscious thought her lips parted, but instead of accepting her offer he drew back, his low murmur bringing her back to earth with a bump. Of course he wasn't going to kiss her! He had drawn her into his arms simply to prevent her from slipping.

Shame scalded her, and she jerked away from him, her cheeks on fire, unable to meet his gaze which she was certain would reflect his sardonic amusement. Just like the first time he pulled this stunt on her.

Itachi undid her in every possible sense and she hated herself for it.

The clock stroked twelve.

Tenten broke break free and pointedly rubbed at her wrist, glaring at him. "It's midnight. So if you were going to wish me, then you can keep it to yourself," she said with a defiant look. "Come on, Sasuke's waiting for you."

OoOoOoOo

_**Meanwhile in Konoha…**_

The moon gave up on trying to break through the iron curtain of clouds in the sky. Midnight fell like a rich velvet blanket of black, draining the colours of the town to grey and then to nothing at all. That was when Anko found Kakashi, to her horror, with his eyes fixed and vacant, lying on her front porch.

The bullet wound was so small. It was a bit ragged around the edges but barely even bleeding. If it wasn't for that hole, and that he was ice cold, bluish even, he could easily have been asleep.

Anko shook her head mutely. She wanted to scream but it didn't come. Shock had slapped its callous palms over her mouth. She crouched, one hand over Kakashi's still chest in utter and complete disbelief.

This had to be a nightmare. It wasn't real, how could it be?

In the grip of silent panic she picked up his hand, touched it to her wet cheek and closed her eyes for a moment. In that eternal second she felt his presence, like the last kiss they never got to have. Her mind struggled to stay in that moment, to keep him close, but the hands of time would not be mastered by mortals.

"Don't be selfish Hatake. What about Tenten?" she returned his hand to his side and laid with him, feeling his body cool, tears soaking into his shirt. "You can't go like this. She's expecting you to be here." Anko slid a hand down to over her abdomen and choked on a sob. "Our baby is expecting you to be here."

Somewhere in the distance the city clock chimed midnight and she knew it in her heart that Kakashi's spirit was gone. Perhaps the most morbid irony of it all wasn't that she'd joked about this predicament happening mere hours ago. It was that on the day of Tenten's birth she finally came back to him, but he left her.

* * *

**AN: ****I'm sorry for the outrageously late update. It won't happen again ;) The past few months have been far more dramatic than I am used to and it affected my muse for a while. Yaaaay Itachi has finally returned. It feels like ages since there has been some interaction between the protags, doesn't it? Now it's time for some development of substance between them... ****There is a piece of fanart being done for this specific chapter by an artist on Pixiv (and a pal of mine) I've seen the progress so far and it's absolutely gorgeous. When it's done I'll let you guys know.**

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Thank you for reading and reviews are always appreciated. I love hearing from you guys, it keeps me inspired :) **


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